Scars of the Past: The Life Story of Son Gohan
by Frozenflower
Summary: What if Gohan had been successfully kidnapped by Radditz, and given to Frieza when he was 4 years old? How would Gohan be changed, when he finally returned to Earth and his family four years later? Can he ever be healed? G&V eventually. Complete:EDITING
1. Prologue

Disclaimer-I don't own DB/Z/GT.  
  
A/N-This will eventually be a Gohan Videl fic, but it primarily concentrates on how Gohan deals with his past-his pain and guilt for the horrible things he was made to do under Frieza's reign.  
  
A/N2-Kinda been wanting to clean this fic up for awhile. Will be messing primarily with sentence structure and word choice, not content, so don't think you're going nuts if you read it and you think...'Huh...I could have sworn that was different.' ^_^  
  
______________________  
  
Goku's mouth was dry and his head was pounding, but his feet kept on going. Next to him ran his arch-rival, the evil Piccolo, who somehow didn't seem quite so evil anymore.  
  
Down the endless path of Snake Way they ran together, side-by-side, and the pounding of their feet played a tune in Goku's head.  
  
*My-son-is-gone-my-son-is-gone.*  
  
Goku fought against the inevitable tears he felt welling up in his throat. Everything had changed so quickly.  
  
Just this morning he had left on Flying Nimbus for a much-anticipated reunion with all of his old friends.  
  
The look on old Master Roshi's face when he had introduced Gohan as his son had been priceless-not to mention Krillin and Bulma's reactions!  
  
The small grin that the memory brought slipped off Goku's face. And now..he was dead, and Gohan was gone-stolen somewhere by his evil brother Radditz.  
  
Who would have known that one man could be so strong? Even with all of their combined might, he and Piccolo hadn't been able to beat the monster.  
  
Goku ran faster, trying to force out the memory of Gohan's cries as Radditz had crushed his father beneath his boot.  
  
Goku couldn't think of Gohan right now. There was nothing he could do for him. He had to save the Earth from the encroaching Saiyans. He had to get to King Kai to train!  
  
Throwing himself into his exertions, Goku tried to blot the small, innocent face from his mind. He had to face facts. There was nothing he could do. His son was already dead.  
  
_____________________  
  
  
  
Gohan looked up in terror at the man who held him. The man who was supposed to be his 'uncle.'  
  
"I want my daddy!" Gohan whined pitifully. He knew it would not work-some part of him couldn't help but try though--he'd never even imagined that people like this man could exist--people so heartless.  
  
Casually backhanding the whimpering Gohan, Radditz picked the child up by his tail and hauled him along behind him like a piece of dirty linen.  
  
Looking up as they entered a small circular room, Gohan saw a large white creature with a long whipping tail.  
  
"What do you have here for us, Radditz," the creature hissed.  
  
"My lord Frieza," Radditz replied, "I have come to report the treachery of Nappa and Vegeta. They have left your service, and claim to serve none but themselves now, my lord."  
  
Frieza's stare was inscrutable. "How did you come by this information, Radditz," hissed his calm, cold voice.  
  
Radditz gathered himself visibly, then replied with barely a tremor, "I was on a planet called Earth when I learned of it, searching for my pathetic younger brother Kakkarott." Frieza nodded cooly, and Radditz continued more confidently, with an expression of relief," What I found was a weakling in both mind and spirit. I quickly dispatched of him, sire. I learned that Vegeta and Nappa wished to purge the planet and sell if for themselves, so I retreated as I am no match for them."  
  
There was a small gleam of surpressed rage in Frieza's eyes, but he merely smiled slightly, "What is that you have there, Radditz," he asked, pointing at the still whimpering Gohan.  
  
Pathetically eager to please, Radditz swung Gohan in front of him by his tail, "It's a gift for you sire. It's my pathetic brother's puny offspring. Half Saiyan," he said yanking Gohan's tail for emphasis.  
  
"Interesting," Frieza smiled, "another little monkey boy to keep me company." Frieza reached out to take possession of Gohan's tail, "We'll have to see if you're as much fun as my last toy-but then again, Vegeta was never really that much fun. Just when I'd start playing with him, he'd always break," Frieza grinned evilly and slammed Gohan heavily into the floor.  
  
Holding the broken child up, Frieza was disappointed to see that he was already unconscious. Tossing Gohan at Radditz he instructed, "Put him in a regeneration tank and come and get me when the cycle finishes. He's really very weak. It looks like I'm going to have to build up his endurance the old fashioned way."  
  
A small smirk of evil pleasure crossed Frieza's face as Radditz hastened to do his bidding. He so did love his toys... 


	2. Another Mysterious Boy

Disclaimer-I don't own DB/Z/GT.  
  
A/N--Editing, editing, editing...  
  
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Krillin gulped nervously as they crept towards the site where Frieza had landed. He couldn't help but wish Goku was there. *Goku where are you?*  
  
It was like one thing after another for these past four years. It had all started that day on Kame Island when Goku's heritage had been revealed revealed, and his brother Radditz had kidnapped poor little Gohan, Goku's son.  
  
Krillin smiled a bit wistfully at the thought of the child. He sometimes found himself wishing he'd gotten a chance to know the boy. It was tragic that a life could be snuffed out so quickly--almost before you even knew it existed. Krillin knew that the boy would have grown up to be worth knowing. He was Goku's son after all.  
  
Looking around, Krillin noticed Vegeta yelling at the others to stay quiet so Frieza wouldn't notice them. If the situation hadn't been so serious, he would have laughed at the Prince's hypocrisy.  
  
It was still strange having Vegeta there. He had been the enemy once, after all, but Krillin just couldn't see him that way anymore. Not after what'd happened on Namek. No matter what he pretended, Vegeta wasn't all bad.  
  
Scanning the horizon nervously, Krillin's head jerked up at a sudden surge of energy. It was immense! MUCH larger than Frieza. Taking the other Z- senshi's lead, Krillin flew after them. Someone stonger than Frieza--maybe it was Goku!  
  
___________________  
  
Krillin stood with the others watching the strange boy in shock as his hair flared from purple to yellow. He could do what Goku could! Did that mean he was a Super Saiyan?  
  
As the z-senshi stood in awe, they watched the mysterious youth make mince meat out of Frieza, and execute his father King Kold without mercy as the evil tyrant begged for his life. Then with a flick of his wrist, he demolished Frieza's spaceship. He made it look easy.  
  
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Gohan's head jerked up in surprise as he felt the high energy level outside of the spaceship. This energy level was much higher than Frieza's.  
  
Gohan fingered the golden collar about his neck. *It's even higher than mine without this stupid thing on.*  
  
The intensity of the power outside crackling along his spine, Gohan crouched low to the dark floor and tried his best to fight the inhibiting collar and form a shield about his small body.  
  
Curling into a ball, Gohan's mind shrieked with glee. He knew that whoever's ki he was sensing was much stronger than his was. He didn't care. Frieza was finally going to die-even if he had to go with him, it would be worth it.  
  
_____________________  
  
Gazing at the burning wreckage, Krillin began to follow, as the strange young man had beckoned. He wanted to see Goku, if this guy was telling the truth, he knew where he was-but something stopped him. In the debris of the ship, he felt a strong ki. And it was somehow-familiar.  
  
Krillin turned to the person flying next to him, "Hey Piccolo?"  
  
The Namek shot a glare at the small human addressing him, "What do you want?"  
  
"Umm, do you sense anything from that wreckage-Frieza's ship I mean?"  
  
Piccolo was a bit startled for a moment, then extended his ki. Indeed- something had survived the boy's blast, although whatever that something was, it was unconscious.  
  
Piccolo and Krillin broke away from the group and set down in front of the debris of the spaceship.  
  
Piccolo warily readied a ki blast in case this was some kind of a trick as Krillin stepped gingerly through the twisted metal towards the source of the ki.  
  
"What the hell are you two doing?" Vegeta asked, floating down behind Piccolo.  
  
Krillin jumped at the harsh voice, and was startled to see that everyone had paused, even the mysterious boy leading them, to see what he and Piccolo were up to.  
  
Krillin held up his hand, still searching, "We sensed a strong ki source coming from the wreckage Vegeta-we wanted to check it out."  
  
Vegeta snorted, "You should have just blasted it into oblivion. Believe me- nothing good has EVER come off of one of Frieza's ships."  
  
Bulma, from her perch in Yamcha's arms rolled her eyes at the Prince and snorted, "THAT'S for sure!"  
  
Vegeta snarled, "Damned impertinent woman! You don't value your life very much, do you?"  
  
"Oh, please!"  
  
Yamcha in the midst of deciding whether or not to break into the verbal tiff when a shout came from Krillin, "Hey I found it!"  
  
Krillin gasped at what he saw, and reached gently down to pick up the small body laying at his feet. It was a child. A child with long, ragged black hair. He wore a battered and ripped Saiyan body suit, and around his neck was a golden necklace.  
  
"Hey, look at this," Krillin exclaimed, floating over to the others.  
  
"Wow, it's just a little boy," Yamcha exclaimed.  
  
Everyone turned to Vegeta as he snorted. "When I was his age, I was blowing up planets under Frieza's tutelage. Don't underestimate him. Looks can be deceiving."  
  
Krillin looked questioningly at Piccolo, "Well, what do you think we should do with him?"  
  
"Bring him along." Everyone turned to see the mysterious young man with the purple hair floating in place. "He's just a child-he's as much a victim of Frieza as anybody, I suspect," he continued.  
  
Vegeta glared but said nothing. Krillin gathered the small tattered body to his chest and took gently to the air to follow after they others as they continued on to meet Goku, with yet another mystery on their hands. 


	3. Awakening

Disclaimer-I don't own DB/Z/GT  
  
A/N--Wow, three chapters edited! I edited these awhile ago...I better not read them again or I know I'll find more to fix and I have to get to class!  
  
____________________  
  
Krillin set the young boy down gently on a nearby rock as they all got comfortable, preparing for the long wait until Goku arrived. The area the mysterious Super Saiyan had designated as Goku's landing site was completely deserted. There was no better place.  
  
Krillin looked at Vegeta who had walked up beside him. "Who is he Vegeta?"  
  
Vegeta glanced at him in annoyance, but replied, "I don't know. He's after my time."  
  
As the remainder of the Z-Warriors crowded around the small boy they had rescued from Frieza's ship, Bulma stooped down to examine him.  
  
"Aww, poor little baby," reaching out, she smoothed a lock of hair from his forehead. "Hey, what's this," she asked, noticing a golden glint around the boy's neck. "Wow, what a pretty necklace!"  
  
Vegeta snarled hand twitching involuntarily towards his throat as he saw what she referred to. "It's not a necklace, you moron," he growled, "It's a collar." Reaching down, Vegeta removed the collar from the boy's neck, simply and expediently breaking it into tiny pebble sized pieces in his strong fists. He smirked down, only to see wide black eyes staring back into his own.  
  
_________________  
  
Gohan was tired. Was he in Hell yet?  
  
Looking up, he saw an angry face staring into his own, holding the ruined remains of the hated collar that had kept him chained for so long.  
  
Quickly assessing his situation, he knew he was surrounded. Part of him just wanted to give up, let them have him, but an annoying voice in the back of his head cautioned that they might not kill him. Frieza hadn't killed him after all, and there were worse things than death.  
  
With a mad scream, Gohan powered up. They'd never take him alive.  
  
___________________  
  
The assembled Z-senshi and friends looked on in surprise as Gohan surged to his feet. Who was this boy? Why was he just standing there?  
  
A sudden look of decision came to the child's face, and with an unearly scream, a blast of wind swept from his tiny body as he attacked. Unluckily for him, the first creature he targeted happened to be Piccolo.  
  
Piccolo almost gave way beneath the fury of punches the child threw, *Who is this kid,* he thought in amazement, having to work, and work hard to keep up with the boy.  
  
Getting in a good punch, Piccolo grabbed the boy's arms and tried to restrain him. Even when Krillin jumped on the the child's madly flailing legs, holding him immobile was no easy task.  
  
With a convulsive shudder, the boy's eyes rolled back into his head and a scream tore from his throat, "Nooooo! I won't let you! Leave me alone! Don't make me hurt you!"  
  
"Hey, it's ok guy," Krillin tried to soothe from his position on the boy's legs, "we're not going to hurt you!"  
  
The boy emitted a small ironic laugh, and continued to struggle. It was clear he didn't believe him. "Please," he panted, "just let me go-I don't want to-not again!"  
  
Krillin was about to reply when a small fuzzy brown tail emerged from between the boy's legs and wrapped tightly around his throat. "Vegeta," Krillin squeaked, "a little help here! He's obviously one of your subjects, so call him off!"  
  
Vegeta had been caught off-guard at the sight of the boy's tail, and was standing frozen with shock. Fortunately for the battered Krillin, no intervention was necessary, as the boy stopped at the mention of Vegeta's name.  
  
As the child sagged in their arms, Krillin and Piccolo warily released him, placing him on his feet.  
  
Everyone watched in amazement as the boy cautiously approached Vegeta. "Your name is Vegeta?" the small voice asked emotionlessly. It was odd to hear Vegeta's monotone parroted in a child's voice.  
  
Vegeta looked at the boy, his expression more unreadable than usual, "Yes."  
  
Small eyebrows came down, and the little chin hardened, as the boy tried to suppress his curiosity. "I heard Frieza talk about you sometimes," reaching up, the child unconsciously rubbed at his neck where the collar had lain. "Thank you. For taking it off I mean."  
  
Vegeta shot him a look, but just nodded.  
  
"Hey Vegeta?" the boy asked hesitantly.  
  
Vegeta paused for a moment, then sighed, "What do you want, brat?"  
  
"We're the same-you and me-aren't we?"  
  
Vegeta studied the boy's face for a moment, then crossed his arms, and set his face in his typical scowl, "Yes," he answered.  
  
"I thought so," the boy said, crossing his own arms.  
  
The rest of the Z-fighters stared on with expressions ranging from surprise to incredulity. Vegeta stood with the boy a short distance from him. Wearing Vegeta's expression, lacking, perhaps, the arrogance, he looked like a little broken, long-haired mirror image of the Saiyan Prince. Who was this boy? 


	4. Goku Returns: Identity Revealed

Disclaimer-I do not own DB/Z/GT.  
  
A/N--Why am I editing this? It's lost in the bowels of ff.net, no one's going to read the changes...  
  
______________________  
  
Gohan looked up at the man standing across from him. Vegeta. Gohan was comfortable with letting Vegeta take control. After all, the older man had survived under Frieza for a MUCH longer time than he had. Gohan wondered how he'd done it.  
  
No, it wasn't that Gohan minded following Vegeta's lead-it was just that- he'd like to know what they were doing here.  
  
"Umm, Vegeta?" Gohan asked tenatively.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Is there a reason that we're all just standing out here in the middle of the desert?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"...."  
  
"...."  
  
"Is it ok if you tell me why?"  
  
Vegeta sighed and glanced at the boy in annoyance. "We're waiting for Kakkarott to return."  
  
"Oh. Vegeta?"  
  
Vegeta growled, "What do you want brat?!"  
  
"What's a Kakkarott?"  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"Ok."  
  
Gohan sighed. He didn't really mind waiting. But the question was; what was he going to do with himself after the Kakka-whats-it arrived, and he was left alone.  
  
He'd thought about going home--hundreds of times, but he didn't think he could find it by himself. Besides, he didn't have a spaceship. Sure, he could get one easily enough, but he didn't like hurting people-destroying things-he never had. Even though it was all he knew.  
  
Gohan pushed aside his thoughts in annoyance. He could always kill himself. He certainly deserved it after all he'd done.  
  
Gohan amused himself for awhile, thinking up sure-fire ways to kill himself, when a rumble in the sky interrupted him. He'd been in the midst of a complicated plan involving ki beams and a mountain, and was annoyed at the interruption.  
  
________________  
  
From out of a small ship in the center of a large impact crater crawled a familiar looking man. He had wild black hair, and innocent eyes that seemed strangely familiar to Gohan.  
  
"Goku!" Krillin called, as he and the others flocked to the new arrival, giving him an enthusiastic welcome.  
  
Gohan started a bit. Goku was his father's name.  
  
Turning, Gohan saw Vegeta scowling at the man rising up from out of the crater. He reached out and poked the Prince in the arm.  
  
Vegeta turned to see the young Saiyan boy gazing up at him. "What?"  
  
Gohan leaned a bit closer and whispered, "Is this Earth?"  
  
Vegeta was a bit startled at the question, but answered, "Yes. Now leave me alone."  
  
Gohan nodded and scooted back a few paces. He was home. What was he going to do now?  
  
__________________  
  
Goku was happy to be home, but he was surprised.  
  
"How did you guys know I was here? And who beat Frieza? Was it you Piccolo? Or was it you Veg-"  
  
Goku cut off in mid-sentence to stare at the boy standing near Vegeta. He wore Saiyan battle armor, a blue spandex underneath, with white and silver body armor on top. The armor was ripped to shreds, and it looked like he'd taken quite a beating. Curled protectively around his waist, was a furry, brown tail. The boy looked so familiar..but it was inpossible. Could it be? He was dead.he'd been dead for years, hadn't he?  
  
Hesitantly extending his ki, Goku felt tears rush to his eyes at the familiar feel of the boy's energy. "Gohan," he choked in amazement.  
  
The gathered crowd looked on in surprise as Goku stared at the strange boy next to Vegeta.  
  
Krillin and Bulma let out identical gasps of amazement. This was Gohan? But they'd thought he was dead!  
  
Gohan looked up at the sound of his name. He knew his father had recognized him. Attempting a small smile, Gohan choked, "H-hello father."  
  
Piccolo and the others let out startled exclamations. This was Gohan? Goku's son? Wasn't he supposed to be dead?  
  
Goku let out an ecstatic yelp, and raced towards his son. Reaching out to hug him, he found Gohan warily backing away.  
  
Gohan was nervous. What did his father want? Did he want to punish him for leaving? A voice broke Gohan's nervous musings.  
  
"I just wanted to give you a hug, son," Goku said, a worried frown returned to his face.  
  
Oh. That was it. A hug. Gohan was sure he could handle that. "Oh. Ok."  
  
Gohan stood stiffly as Goku wrapped his arms around him. It felt-good. Comforting. Not dirty or painful as he had feared. Gohan's face became an emotionless mask. He felt so warm, so protected. He had to be strong-he could feel the tears threatening and struggled to get loose before the dam broke.  
  
He could feel the others crowding around him. Their concern was like a palpable force. He couldn't take it. He didn't deserve their care-if they knew what'd happened-what he'd done, they would hate him right now.  
  
Goku looked worriedly at his son as he struggled to get free of his arms. Quickly letting him go, he put a hand on Gohan's shoulder instead. "Gohan, what's wrong son? It's ok, you're home now."  
  
Vegeta watched the boy struggle to control himself, legs braced apart, fists clenched to his side. Kakkarott's brat. That explained a lot. At least he wasn't his. Vegeta had been a bit concerned about that.  
  
Seeing the boy about to lose it, Vegeta decided to butt in. "Leave him alone. Give him some space. He's not used to dealing with all of this, and you're getting to him. You try being Frieza's lackey and see how stable you turn out to be."  
  
Goku looked up, worry and compassion written in his eyes. "Does that go for you too Vegeta?"  
  
Vegeta just snorted and turned away. Sometimes Kakkarott was too perceptive for his own good. The baka. 


	5. Hello Mother

Disclaimer-I don't own DB/Z/GT.  
  
A/N-Once again, posting the edited version without editing again, I'm so OCD I could never leave it be...  
  
___________________  
  
Goku was filled with conflicting emotions. Arriving back on earth--what Trunks had said--finding out who Trunks' parents were, Goku grinned momentarily--actually, that part had been kind of funny! But mostly, his thoughts were with Gohan, the son he had thought dead these past four years.  
  
At first Goku had been overcome by joy knowing Gohan was alive-it was too much even to wish for. After that first year, and all the disappointment of finding out that it was impossible to wish Gohan back to life with the Dragonballs for some reason, he had totally given up hope. Now he knew why the wish had been impossible of course. If only they had asked-maybe they could have gotten him back a little sooner-before he'd had a chance to get even more hurt.  
  
Goku glanced at the solemn boy flying beside him and Piccolo. That first moment of joy had worn off quickly enough at Gohan's reaction to him. And when he and Trunks had become Super Saiyan-Goku had found it impossible to ignore the anguished screams emitting from his son as Vegeta and the others had held him down.  
  
Goku felt a chill run through his body. What had happened to his son? Gone was the bright, inquisitive boy he remembered, replaced by a solemn, brooding shell with empty eyes. What had done this to him?  
  
____________________  
  
Gohan repressed a shudder as he felt his father's gaze upon him. He had been happy, to an extent, to be back on earth. Happy to have a family again. It was something he'd only dreamed about on all of those long, dark nights. A shining light. Salvation in the darkness that was his world. That happy dream had been shattered when he saw his father and the other man turn Super Saiyan.  
  
At first Gohan had panicked. He knew what it was like to feel that rage flowing through his veins. He'd waited for death to come, in the form of his father, when the power took him. But it never had. That's when he had started screaming. It could be controlled. His father and the boy were obviously in control of it. And if it could be controlled, then that meant, it was all his fault.  
  
Everything he had done-he had convinced himself that he wasn't responsible- that it couldn't be controlled. But there, before him, as mute testimony to those comforting lies, had stood his father and the other man. They had just stood there. Not destroying, not murdering. They had control.  
  
Gohan felt his body shaking uncontrollably as they approached a house. His house. What would his mother say if she knew her little boy was a murderer? Knew all of the terrible things he had done-things he had thought were out of his control, but now knew, obviously, were not.  
  
_____________________  
  
Touching down on the grass, Goku felt a wave of happiness sweep over him. "Chi-Chi, we're home!"  
  
At the sound of Goku's yell, a pale face appeared in the doorway of the little cabin. She looked like a wraith, a shadow of the once proud daughter of the Ox-King. "Goku, is.is it really you?" Chi-Chi whispered, disbelieving.  
  
Goku grinned goofily and nodded.  
  
Fast enough to do a Saiyan proud, Chi-Chi was in his arms, hugging him and scolding him to never EVER do that to her again.  
  
Gently removing her arms from around his neck, Goku turned her in the direction that Gohan was standing. A look of shock, immediately replaced by recognition flew across her face. "Gohan," Chi-Chi sobbed, running up and embracing the boy, "my little baby-he's back from the dead!"  
  
Gohan's face grew slightly panicked as his mother embraced him. *What am I supposed to do now? Do I-hug her back? I don't know what to do.* Stiffening, Gohan resumed his impartial mask, unable to decide, and let Chi- Chi hug him.  
  
Chi-Chi looked up to see her son staring emotionlessly over her head. Reaching up she gentyly touched his cheek, and he flinched. Chi-Chi was hurt. "Gohan, why.."  
  
Chi-Chi was cut off when Goku touched her shoulder. "Chi," Goku said hesitantly, using her old nickname, "we need to talk, ok?"  
  
Chi-Chi got the point when she saw her husband give their expressionless son a significant glance, and quietly followed him into the house without argument.  
  
__________________  
  
Gohan was nervous. He knew his parents were talking about him. What were they saying? Were they going to kick him out? Mulling over the possibilities, he saw the green man, his father's friend, staring at him.  
  
Piccolo cleared his throat. "So, Gohan. Are you happy to be back home?"  
  
Gohan nodded, even though he wasn't quite sure. It was better than being with Frieza. "Yes."  
  
Piccolo continued to study the boy. Piccolo was no stranger to pain and suffering, but Vegeta's sticking up for the child had really gotten to him. What could be so damaging that Vegeta would come to someone's defense?  
  
Seeing Piccolo's silent observation, Gohan decided that the man wanted to ask him something. "What?" He asked, tersely, nervous under the penetrating gaze.  
  
Piccolo's eyes widened a bit at the rudeness, but he replied, "Was it really that bad? Your time with Frieza?"  
  
Gohan was startled. His mind urged him to scream *YES* but caution took over. "I don't know," he replied, "I mean, I don't really remember too much from before. It's all I've ever known."  
  
Gohan shivered as vivid memory leapt to his mind of an early 'training session' with Zarbon. He hadn't known how to fight at all-the older man had just pounded him until he was injured enough to put into the regeneration tank. He still remembered the man's smug smile as he told him that severe injury makes Saiyans stronger after they recover from it.  
  
Gohan's eyes went black, and shivers ran violently up and down his body as he was caught up in the flashback. It was almost like it was happening again. His mind remembered each wound, each cry that had come from childish lips. It had taken hours. Zarbon liked his fun, and knew how to cause severe pain without inflicting serious injury. When he was finally dragged to the regeneration tank, he had been a broken, bloodied mess. He remembered the pain of that time-the first time his tail had been broken. It certainly hadn't been the last.  
  
As Piccolo watched the boy overtaken by some strong memory, he felt something not unlike pity stir in his heart. He answered his own question, seeing the violent convulsions shaking the child's body. Yes. Apparently it WAS 'that bad.'  
  
________________  
  
Chi-Chi cried into her husband's arms as they witnessed Gohan's fit in the front yard. Gently cradling his wife, Goku whispered, "It'll be ok. We're here for him. We'll make him better, I promise."  
  
Through her tears, Chi-Chi looked at her small son in the front yard, shuddering and haunted by unknown images. "I hope so, Goku. I hope so." 


	6. Nightmare

Disclaimer-I don't own DB/Z/GT  
  
A/N--Last edited chapter as of 10/7/02, the rest is in its original form.  
  
_________________  
  
Gohan snuggled down under his covers. He was warm, and relatively content, with a full belly for the first time in as long as he could remember.  
  
Gohan grinned a little. He'd been surprised at how much his dad had eaten at dinner. He had tried to keep his own servings modest, but had given in under his mother's urgings. When he had finally stopped stuffing himself, he had turned to see his dad staring incredulously at him. Goku had NEVER seen someone eat more than HE did!  
  
Gohan snuggled down a little more. This bed-HIS bed, was so comfortable! Smiling, Gohan relived his day, from the time he had arrived home, through dinner once again. His parents had tried hard to make him feel welcome. He knew they would never hurt him.  
  
Once again, Gohan found himself thinking of Goku's expression at dinner. Gohan had been shocked at how much his father had eaten, but now that he thought about it, maybe it was just a Super Saiyan thing. Oh. Super Saiyan.  
  
Gohan closed his eyes as he felt them starting to burn. Super Saiyan had been the bane of his existence for the past two years. It was the reason he had been elevated to something other than toy-or rather, in addition to toy. It was the reason for the hated golden shackle that had choked his neck. It was Super Saiyan that had turned him from unwilling victim, to unwilling-what? Killer? Murderer?  
  
Gohan sighed as he turned over on his side. His earlier feelings of peace and contentment had fled. He was glad. He didn't deserve peace-happiness. Clenching his eyes shut, Gohan sought refuge in his dreams, hoping to escape the thoughts that now shouted in his brain. Hoping to escape images of Super Saiyan.  
  
---Gohan's Dream---  
  
He was running. He was always running, but this time, he was running away from something. It was right behind him, and he knew that if he stopped, or slowed down even the least little bit, it would catch up to him.  
  
Gohan's feet pounded against the cold metal of the long dark hallway as he fled. Around him blinked and buzzed the gentle sounds of the ships computer as it processed.  
  
Fleeing into the darkness, Gohan found himself on an empty, black plain. The stars shone above him with a fierce kind of brightness, but that was the only light. The angry light of the stars.  
  
Gohan paused, trying to catch his breath. The thing wasn't behind him anymore, but he knew it was there somewhere. He could feel it. Slowly backing up, Gohan ran into a solid object. Whirling around to confront it, he found-his father?  
  
Gohan smiled in relief as his mother came out beside Goku. He knew that they would never hurt him. As Gohan opened his mouth to greet them, his father's happy grin melted into an angry scowl.  
  
Gohan blinked in shock as his father ascended to Super Saiyan and began to advance on him. "No, father, please," Gohan couldn't help it; he didn't want his father to hurt him.  
  
Goku's expression practically blazed with fury. "Why not GOHAN? Isn't this what you did? How you killed people? You could have controlled it, you know. They didn't have to die." Goku hefted a small ball of energy in his hand, "You enjoyed it didn't you Gohan," Goku sneered, "You're a murderer and a disgrace!" Goku threw the ball of light in his palm, and Gohan tried to dodge, only to find his mother holding him tightly in place.  
  
"Mother, what?" Gohan began.  
  
Chi-Chi's sweet smile turned into an angry scowl. "Hold still Gohan. It's better off for everyone this way. You'll go to hell and have your soul erased and recycled, and your father and I won't have to live with what a monster our sweet little son has become."  
  
Gohan's heart shattered with her words, and unable to move, he turned to face the approaching ball of light. "AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!"  
  
---End Dream Sequence---  
  
"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!" Gohan shot up from the bed, his blankets a tangle around his legs.  
  
Breathing heavily, he tried to suppress the shudders that wracked his body. What a horrible dream. His parents would never do that to him-right? They would never think that-but what if they found out?  
  
Gohan was still trying to regain control when Chi-Chi burst into the room, "Gohan! Gohan, are you alright?!" she gasped out, sliding to a halt and clutching her nightgown at the neck.  
  
Goku arrived mere seconds later, to see Chi-Chi attempting to soothe her son, who stared up at her with wide, terrified eyes. Recalling the earlier incident with Piccolo and the others, Goku cautioned, "Chi, be careful! He's upset-you don't know what he's capable of right now!"  
  
Ignoring her husbands' words, Chi-Chi sat down next to Gohan and pulled the boy into her arms.  
  
Gohan tried to control the shaking, but he couldn't. He felt warm arms wrap around him, and looked up to see his mother holding him, a tender expression on her face, and tears in her eyes. His father watched worriedly from the doorway.  
  
Gohan struggled to regain control of himself. It was just a nightmare-it wasn't like he wasn't used to nightmares.  
  
Taking deep breaths, Gohan tried, but found he just couldn't stop shaking. It was different this time. Something about having his parents try to kill him-the hate and disappointment in their eyes, really got to him. Unable to control it, Gohan gave in, sobbing into the warm shoulder of the woman holding him. He wanted his parents' love, he wanted their trust, but how could someone love him after the things he had done?  
  
Clinging tightly to his mother's shoulder, Gohan cried for several minutes. He cried because she held him-and because he knew that her love would turn to hatred if she ever found out what a monster she had for a son.  
  
____________________  
  
Setting the now sleeping Gohan gently down on the bed, and covering him up with his blankets, Chi-Chi crept quietly out of the room to find Goku still standing in the hallway. His expression was troubled.  
  
Chi-Chi smiled, and stood on tiptoe to kiss her husband on the nose. Jerking out of his reverie, Goku blinked down at her. "What was that for Chi-Chi?"  
  
Chi-Chi smiled. "It's for being a good man, and for worrying about your son. Don't worry too much though, Goku. I think we'll be alright. After all, he trusted me enough to cry on my shoulder-we've come a long way in just one day. Think about it! Just this morning he couldn't even hug me." Chi- Chi looked up to see the sad expression on her husband's normally cheerful face, slowly easing a bit at her words. "It'll be ok Goku. Eventually he'll open up and tell us what happened. We just can't push him. He'll be ok. We'll all get through this together."  
  
Goku smiled down at the woman by his side. She was right. "Thanks Chi- Chi. It's just-I've never dealt with stuff like this before."  
  
Chi-Chi put a finger to his lips to hush him, lest they wake their sleeping son. "Shh. I know."  
  
Turning, the two made their way down the hall to their bedroom, but as they fell asleep, their thoughts never strayed far from the troubled boy who tossed and turned, just down the hall. 


	7. Going Shopping

[Disclaimer—I don't own DB/Z/GT  
  
A/N—I think I'm getting addicted to this story—I'm going to have more chapters than reviews pretty soon!]  
  
________________  
  
Gohan woke up to warmth, and a delicious smell emanating from the kitchen. Pulling on the battered remains his armor, Gohan crept cautiously from his room and downstairs.  
  
In the kitchen sat his father at the table, drooling towards Chi-Chi, who just smiled and smacked his had with a spatula when he tried to steal a piece of bacon. Gohan couldn't help it. He giggled.  
  
Turning towards the doorway, Goku was happy to see his son smiling. It was even worth not getting the bacon. Goku grinned, "Come on in Gohan, just watch out for you mom's spatula."  
  
As Gohan walked a bit hesitantly towards the table and sat down, Goku realized that he was still in the same clothes as the day before, which had been basically demolished. "Gohan." Goku said abruptly.  
  
The boy looked up, a bit startled, "H-Hai*, Otousan*?"  
  
Goku smiled a bit to reassure him, "I think we're going to have to go shopping for you. I'm sure you've outgrown all of your old clothes, and you'll need something besides what you've got on. Whatd'ya say? Wanna go to the mall with me after breakfast?"  
  
Gohan looked down at his ragged clothing in surprise. He supposed he did need something new—he'd never had to bother with it before—there'd always been a new uniform laid out for him when he demolished the old one. Gohan smiled shyly at his father. "Sure. I'd like that."  
  
Goku grinned at his son and said in a mock whisper, "Just don't let your mother find out we're going—or we'll never get out of there!"  
  
Gohan smiled in delight as his mother waved a frying pan mock menacingly at his father. "Goku, if you know what's good for you, you'll close that trap!!!"  
  
Pretending to cower, Goku yelped.  
  
Chi-Chi sniffed, and brought several large plates over and sat them down in front of her husband and her son. "Well, I can't go anyway. I've got a lunch date with Bulma today—unless—do you want me to come with you Gohan?" Chi-Chi inquired hesitantly.  
  
Gohan almost smiled. After all he'd been through, his mother didn't think he could handle a mall—it was good, in a strange way, to be considered a child again. "No, it's ok Mom. Dad and I will be fine," Gohan smiled at his mother, and dug into his breakfast.  
  
________________  
  
Walking out the door, Gohan almost ran head on into Piccolo. Goku, who was walking beside him, DID run into Piccolo.  
  
"Oof," Goku exclaimed laughing. "You're like a brick wall, Piccolo!"  
  
Piccolo smiled slightly at this.  
  
"Hey, you wanna come to the mall with Gohan and me," Goku asked the Namek, "We're going to buy Gohan some new clothes and stuff."  
  
Piccolo thought for a moment. He'd just finished meditating, and he wouldn't have anything to do until the two got back. He shrugged, "Sure, why not?"  
  
Taking to the air, the trio headed for the mall.  
  
_________________  
  
After a few minutes in the sky, Goku decided to try a gentle probe, "So, Gohan. When did you learn how to fly? Last I remember, I had to rescue you out of a tree because you were afraid you'd fall," Goku grinned.  
  
Surprisingly, Gohan grinned back. Learning to fly was one of his few happy memories. "I learned when I was four—a few months after I….left. We were on a planet—I don't know what we were doing there—anyway, Frieza gave me to some stupid foot soldiers and told them to watch me. Frieza wanted them to 'train' me, so they were knocking me around a bit. Finally, I got tired of it, and hit one of them that grabbed my tail," Gohan grinned, "I knocked him across a field and into a tree. The others came after me, and I was afraid, so I just…flew." Gohan grinned across at his father who was looking a bit shocked.  
  
"Wow, you were FOUR?!" Goku exclaimed, "That's really something!"  
  
Gohan nodded, still grinning, "Yeah, those foot soldiers had an awful time finding me—I know they got their asses chewed out by Frieza—and worse, but they deserved it."  
  
Goku looked a little shocked at the foul language, but Piccolo just snorted in agreement.  
  
___________________  
  
Landing in the parking lot, the three made their way into the mall. There were so many people there! Crowded all around, shrieking children, harried parents, teenagers hanging out in the food court. Gohan looked around in amazement. He'd never seen so many people in one place before--*Well, happy people at least,* he mentally amended.  
  
Gohan followed his father through the crush of bodies, as the three approached a clothing store. Looking around, he was surprised to see the store stocked full of gi's and other fighting equipment. Gohan looked questioningly at his father.  
  
Goku smiled at his son's look and said, "I thought you might be more comfortable in fighting clothes at first—they're comfortable and allow for easy movement—besides, I was kind of hoping you'd train with Piccolo and me to fight the androids.  
  
Gohan froze a bit, a smile plastered to his face. *Can I do it? Can I fight to save instead of destroy? But...what if I lose control? What if I go Super, and they—find out?* Gohan nodded jerkily at his father and said, "I'll think about it."  
  
Gohan picked out a few gi's, two a dark blue, and three more to match his father's orange. Goku, with a little help, counted out the bills to the cashier, and they left, headed for home.  
  
As Gohan flew above the city, clutching his shopping bag, he thought about his father's offer to train with him. Up until now, he had never really been TRAINED. He had mostly tried to copy the moves of those who were sent to beat him—tried to forestall the pain a little longer.  
  
Gohan wondered what training with his father would be like. He was certain it would be like nothing he had ever experienced. He had already promised his mother, that morning at breakfast, that he would return to his long forgotten studies as quickly as possible. Fighting had dominated his life for so long—perhaps with his father's help, he could atone for his past and still fight—no matter how much he detested it, it ran through his veins—it was the only thing he knew. Perhaps with his father's help, he could tame that fire, and give it an acceptable outlet.  
  
Gohan grinned fiercely into the wind. He would train with his father.  
  
  
  
***Aww, a relatively happy chapter! Don't worry, Gohan will be suffering again soon enough—(tell me I'm evil)! R&R please, and always remember, no matter how I torture them, I'm a sap for a happy ending!***  
  
*Japanese Words  
  
Hai- Yes  
  
Otousan- Father 


	8. Revelations

[Disclaimer—I don't own DB/Z/GT.  
  
A/N—As I am typing this, I can't get FF.net up on my computer. I will die if it stays down much longer. I just wanted you to know that….Oh, and this chapter is longer than the others because it just turned out like that—I'm not promising they'll all be this long!]  
  
_______________  
  
Waking, Gohan hurried into the bathroom to get ready. Today was the day. He'd been home for a week now, and this was it. The day he began training with his father.  
  
Gohan pulled on a long sleeved blue shirt, to hide the scars that criss- crossed his body. He didn't want to explain them, and if his parents saw them, he was sure they'd ask. He picked up his new orange gi from the counter, and pulled it over his head.  
  
Gohan breathed deeply, trying to calm his nerves. He looked a lot like his father in this outfit. His mother had cut his hair a few days ago, and now it stuck up in several long spikes on the top of his head, half mimicking his father's wild hairdo.  
  
Gohan felt his heart beating in his chest as he started down the stairs to where his father and Piccolo already awaited him. He had to keep control today. That was going to be no easy task. For him, fighting had always been about giving up—losing control, not maintaining it.  
  
Gohan smiled a bit nervously as he met his father in the front yard, already performing his stretches.  
  
Goku smiled up at his son as he walked out the door. "You ready to get to work Gohan?"  
  
Gohan nodded weakly. He was as ready as he'd ever be.  
  
________________  
  
It'd been like this for months. Ever since he started training with Goku, it seemed like Gohan was always on edge. He'd learned a lot of new things, and both his father and Piccolo had been surprised by his strength. Gohan knew they would be even more surprised had they known what he was hiding.  
  
Goku looked at his son as they fought. The fight wasn't intense—there was no fire in it—there never had been with Gohan. Every move seemed choreographed, every punch calculated. It was almost as if—he was holding back—afraid to let go.  
  
Goku frowned with worry. It'd been several months now, that Gohan had been home. He hadn't mentioned a word of his past, or what'd happened in the time he'd been with Frieza. Goku didn't want to pry, but at the same time, he knew that something was wrong—horribly wrong. Watching the boy struggling in front of him, Goku was perplexed.  
  
Gohan didn't seem to be struggling to keep up, or evade attacks—his fighting style had been a oddly distinct mish-mash when they had first started, but now his form was smooth, and he was learning to incorporate Goku and Piccolo's styles in with his own jumble, making it wholly original. No, the problem was somewhere else. He seemed to be struggling against himself. Or some part of himself.  
  
Gohan fought for control. He felt the power surging to the surface, it did ever time he fought. His movements became jerky and sporadic as his internal struggle took precedence. Out of nowhere came a large ki blast, hitting him straight in the chest. Gohan felt his control slipping. He knew it was a losing battle, and as his hold on the power slipped, he screamed. In agony and terror, Gohan knew without a doubt that his secret was going to be revealed. Tears streamed down his face, as the rage took him, and he became a Super Saiyan.  
  
______________  
  
Goku was shocked. He'd shot a ki blast at Gohan in order to push him. In order to make him wake up and pay attention to the fight. It had certainly done that.  
  
Goku heard his son's terrible scream and was buried beneath a whirlwind of kicks and punches before he knew what hit him. He was being beaten, because he was just too shocked to react.  
  
Goku opened himself up, and ascended to Super Saiyan. He felt the familiar golden glow about him, and looked at the boy before him, rage and helpless terror written alternatingly across his face. Gohan was a Super Saiyan.  
  
Goku kicked and blocked as his son attacked him, "Whoa, Gohan, calm down, why didn't you tell me you were a Super Saiyan?" A nameless scream of rage was his only answer.  
  
Goku didn't understand. His son was a Super Saiyan, but it seemed that somehow, he hadn't learned to control it—he was being driven by the anger that flooded his veins. Reluctantly, Goku made a decision.  
  
Dodging a monster ki blast, shot by the infuriated Gohan, Goku appeared behind his son and hit him sharply, on the side of the head with all of his strength.  
  
Catching him before he fell, Goku looked wonderingly at his once-again black-haired son's tear ravaged face. They'd put this off too long. It was time for some explanations.  
  
__________________  
  
Gohan looked up blearily as he opened his eyes to see his parents sitting worriedly at his bedside. *Ugh, I feel horrible,* Gohan thought, moving his head slightly. Then he remembered. Super Saiyan. He'd turned Super Saiyan and attacked his father. Gohan felt his heart clench. He'd been so happy these past few months—the training had been difficult for him, holding back the rage he felt, but he had enjoyed spending time with his father. Ha—he'd even enjoyed studying. Gohan turned his eyes to his parents—it was all over now. After this, he knew they'd demand an explanation.  
  
Goku looked down at his young son and saw the terror on his face. What secrets did those sad black eyes hide? Looking down, Goku saw that Gohan was waiting for him to ask. He knew what was coming. Goku sighed. This had to be done. No matter how painful it might be, Gohan had to learn to deal with his past, and learn to face whatever had happened. Goku looked into his son's eyes, as Chi-Chi squeezed his hand encouragingly, "Gohan. It's time, son. You need to tell your mother and I about your past. We need to know what happened while you were with Frieza.  
  
Gohan's face became expressionless. He had to tell them—he'd known this day would come eventually. What would they say? Maybe his father would kill him. It might be better off that way—he certainly deserved it. Taking a deep breath, Gohan kept his face steady. He would take what was coming to him—he wouldn't beg for acceptance, or understanding. No one could understand. He couldn't expect them to.  
  
Goku watched as his son's face became remote and expressionless. He leaned forward a bit, as Gohan opened his mouth and spoke in an empty, emotionless voice.  
  
"When Radditz kidnapped me, he gave me to Frieza as a pet." Grimly amused, a corner of Gohan's mouth twitched up, and he turned to face Goku, "Hence the collar that Vegeta pulled off of me. He called me his 'little monkey boy.' I was an amusing toy to him I think—he spent a lot of his spare time training me."  
  
Gohan fought down the revulsion that the memories brought, and continued. "His training usually consisted of beating me until I was nearly dead, and then throwing me in a regeneration tank to heal." Gohan heard his mother gasp, but ignored it—she'd know how much he deserved those beating, before too long. "Frieza always liked to tell me how severe injury caused a Saiyan to grow stronger. It must have been true because I did."  
  
Goku felt the tears welling in his eyes. He had wondered why Gohan always wore a long sleeve shirt under his gi's. Perhaps now he had the answer.  
  
Gohan continued. "When I was around six years old, I first became a Super Saiyan."  
  
Goku's eyes widened with shock, "Wow! You turned Super Saiyan at six?! How did Frieza keep you under control?"  
  
Gohan laughed, mirthlessly. "It was the collar. Up until then, I'd thought he just used it to humiliate me. He even had a little golden leash he towed me around on sometimes. But no. The collar—it was some kind of device used to suppress ki. He controlled me with it." Gohan suppressed a shudder—it was now or never—they had to know the truth—he couldn't keep it from them any longer. "The first person I killed as a Super Saiyan was Radditz."  
  
Goku's eyes widened at that, and Chi-Chi grasped his hand a bit tighter. "The first?" she whispered.  
  
Gohan's head jerked a bit at the sound of her voice, and then his eyes returned to a spot on the ceiling. Tears ran in thin streams down the emotionless mask that covered his face. "Yes. The first. As you saw outside father, I can't control Super Saiyan. Frieza knew that. After the first time I transformed, Frieza would take me to a planet he wanted purged, and then he would—do things. Things to make me angry. At first it was things to me—I became immune to that after awhile—I could kind of block it out when it happened to me. After awhile, he started doing things to other people to make me angry. It was something different each time, but he always knew which buttons to push."  
  
Goku looked on in horror, as what his son was saying started to dawn on him.  
  
Gohan continued. It was flowing out now—everything he'd always wanted to tell them—his darkest secrets—everything he hated and feared the most. Turning to look his father in the eye, Gohan stated expressionlessly, "I purged planets for Frieza, father. I'm a murderer, millions if not billions of times over. I killed innocents trying to defend their homes." Oblivious to the tears now drenching the neck of his shirt, where they had soaked in, Gohan kept going, "I couldn't control Super Saiyan. I still can't. I thought maybe it couldn't be controlled, until I saw you and Trunks control it. That's why I—reacted the way I did."  
  
Goku thought back to his son's agonized screams when he had first turned Super Saiyan in front of him. "Gohan," Goku reached out to touch his son's shoulder, only to have him wince away.  
  
"D-do you hate me?" Gohan asked, trying to remain distant, but a terrible agony shone in his dark eyes.  
  
Goku reached out and pulled his shuddering son into his arms. He felt as if his heart would break. Thinking back to his fight on Namek, with Frieza, Goku felt himself, for the first time in his life, regretting that show of mercy. Stroking Gohan's hair, Goku hummed a gentle tune to sooth his son.  
  
Turning, he saw his wife, her face as tear streaked as his own, holding her hands across her mouth to stifle her sobs.  
  
Rocking Gohan gently back and forth, Goku mentally cursed Frieza—for hurting his son—for forcing his son to hurt others—but mostly, for convincing Gohan that it was his fault—for convincing his son that he was a murderer.  
  
Gohan's mind roiled, replaying the terrible images of frightened faces and peaceful cities laid to ruin. The looks of terror on frightened faces, right before he had killed them.  
  
It might have helped, had he known that they hadn't blamed him. Had he known the pity that his victims had felt for the golden boy who had come to kill them, with unbearable agony screaming out from his eyes, and tears coursing down his cheeks. Then again, it might not have.  
  
  
  
***If you liked it, R&R please!*** 


	9. Pure of Heart

[Disclaimer—I don't own DB/Z/GT.  
  
A/N—This idea came to me in a flash—I hope you like it!]  
  
___________________  
  
It'd been over a week since Gohan's startling confession. Although his parents had tried to coax him back to his studies and his training, he just seemed to have no heart for it. It was like something inside of him had finally broken.  
  
Goku stared sadly at his son laying curled up on the couch. His arms wrapped around his knees drawing them to his chest. His eyes stared blankly at nothing. Goku knew he was having some sort of flashback.  
  
___________________  
  
The flashbacks seemed to occur with greater frequency since he had told his parents, some detached portion of Gohan's mind mused. At the moment he was reliving a scene on a once beautiful planet with a green sky, now desolate and oddly silent, the sky's pale aqua dimmed to a harsh gray by smoke.  
  
Gohan stood in the midst of the wreckage. Super Saiyan had left him, and he was covered in blood. Some of it was his own. Most of it was not.  
  
From a nearby pile of rubble, Gohan heard a frantic scraping. Stumbling over, he pulled a piece of cement off of the pile, to reveal a little girl. She had long, blue hair, that reminded him of someone he'd met once. At the time, he hadn't known who, though now he recognized the person that she resembled as Bulma.  
  
Gohan reached in and carefully lifted her out of the debris. "Are you ok," he whispered, knowing that he himself was the monster that had destroyed everything she had ever known and loved.  
  
The girl nodded. A slight smile crept to her face as she opened her mouth to reply, when ---ZAP---.  
  
Gohan felt the small body jerk in his arms as a ki beam pierced neatly through the girls skull.  
  
Whirling, Gohan found himself confronted with Zarbon, who sarcastically blew an imaginary wisp of smoke from his fingertip. He smiled cruelly down at the boy before him, "You failed in your mission, monkey," he mocked, "I had to clean up after you," the man sneered, pointing at the still body in Gohan's arms.  
  
Gohan felt his rage rising, and he knew that had it not been for the inhibiting collar which pulsated around his neck, he would have gone Super Saiyan again.  
  
Zarbon smirked and drove a fist into Gohan's stomach, causing him to drop the girl's now-lifeless body. "Time for your punishment, monkey boy!" the man laughed cruelly. "Purged…means…purged…" Zarbon grunted, punctuating each word with a blow.  
  
_______________________  
  
Gohan gasped and let out a breath as the memory finally faded into darkness. That had been the point at which he finally lost consciousness.  
  
Sitting carefully up, Gohan found his father staring at him. He'd been doing that a lot these last couple days. Gohan wondered whether he was having second thoughts about forgiving his murderous offspring. Gohan wouldn't have blamed him.  
  
Goku looked at his son as the boy stared at him with those blank, unreadable eyes. That was the thing he missed most about the old Gohan. The joy that had shone out from those eyes. To see it replaced by this—cold blankness was heart wrenching.  
  
Goku hoped fervently that his plan would work. Perhaps it might help. Perhaps someday it might even restore a glimpse of happiness to those eyes that had seen far too much.  
  
_______________________  
  
Gohan looked up as his father stood. What did he want?  
  
Goku smiled at his son. He looked confused. For once, he expressed a normal emotion for a boy his age. Smiling, Goku said, "Gohan—I need you to come with me somewhere, ok? It's a short trip, but important, and I want you with me."  
  
Gohan shrugged and followed as Goku stepped into the front yard. He would do anything his father asked of him.  
  
Goku put his hand up in the air and whistled. He had faith in his son. He called, "Come to me, Flying Nimbus!"  
  
Gohan was startled. What was his father doing? After only a few second, his question was answered, however, as a fluffy golden cloud descended from the sky to rest before them. It looked—familiar….  
  
Piccolo stood against the side of the building. He knew what Goku was doing. It was a big risk. Only those with the purest of hearts could ride Flying Nimbus. Even Bulma, a relatively good person, couldn't ride. How could he expect this child with the weight of so many deaths on his soul to still remain pure enough to satisfy Nimbus?  
  
Goku looked at his son and took a breath, "Well, Gohan, hop on!"  
  
Gohan looked at his father strangely. He remembered riding this cloud when he was a child, but what was the use now that he could fly? Gohan opened his mouth to speak, but Goku put up a restraining hand, "Please, Gohan. I'll explain later."  
  
Gohan shrugged, and leapt into the air, landing in the middle of the fluffy golden mass with a bounce.  
  
Goku smiled and nodded to himself. He'd known it. He also knew that Gohan wouldn't believe it from him, since he was his father.  
  
Goku turned to see Piccolo standing against the house, shock evident on his normally expressionless face, and grinned. "Hey Piccolo—you wanna go visit Master Roshi with me and Gohan?"  
  
Piccolo nodded slightly, and Goku hopped onto Nimbus behind Gohan. As they flew towards the Turtle Hermit's Island, Piccolo couldn't help but look at the silent boy beside him in wonder. *You sure are something kid…..*  
  
_____________________  
  
Arriving at Master Roshi's Island, Goku grinned to see Krillin practicing his Kamehameha against the ocean, and Roshi, as usual, sprawled out on a recliner with a girly magazine draped over his eyes.  
  
Goku grinned mischievously and yelled, "MASTER ROSHI!"  
  
Krillin, who was walking up to greet them, grinned as he saw his Master go flying head over heels into the sand.  
  
Rubbing his head, Roshi glared up through his sunglasses. Oh. It was Goku.  
  
Hopping off Nimbus, Goku smiled at his old master, "Hey there Master Roshi!"  
  
Roshi mumbled a greeting, still a bit sore about being woken from that @wonderful@ dream….  
  
Goku grinned, and nudged the solemn Gohan who was still kneeling silently on Nimbus, "Hey, hop off for a second, will you son?"  
  
Gohan obediently got off. What was his father doing? He looked at Goku with growing curiosity as his father addressed Krillin and the Turtle Hermit. "Hey, would you guys mind getting on Nimbus for me for a second?"  
  
Roshi blushed and mumbled something about not wanting to, while Krillin looked curiously up at Goku and spoke, "You know we can't do that Goku! Only the pure of heart can ride on Flying Nimbus—I wasn't pure enough when I was a just a little kid—I'm certainly not now—as for Master Roshi," Krillin shook his head as he watched the old pervert scramble around tidying up his magazines, "Well let's just say that he's not pure enough either."  
  
Piccolo watched closely as Gohan's head jerked up at Krillin's words. He saw a tiny smile spread on Goku's face at Gohan's expression.  
  
"Come on Krillin, just try it for me, ok?" Goku asked.  
  
Krillin shrugged, "Alright, but you and I both know what's going to happen." Krillin jumped into the air and came straight down on Flying Nimbus' fluffy golden surface—and kept on going. "Oof." Krillin hit the ground with a thud, landing on his feet, but just barely. Turning, he was about to ask Goku what this was all about, when he noticed the tears that had gathered in young Gohan's eyes.  
  
Krillin shot a concerned look at Goku and asked hesitantly, "Is Gohan alright?"  
  
To his surprise and his relief, Goku smiled and nodded, "Yes Krillin. I think he's going to be just fine now." Lifting his son, Goku placed the shocky boy on the surface of the golden cloud and hopped on behind him.  
  
"Thanks for your help Krillin," Goku called as Nimbus, trailed by Piccolo sped into the distance.  
  
Krillin scratched his head and frowned. "Umm, your welcome?" Turning his back on the receding trio, Krillin sought out Master Roshi, still not quite sure what had just happened…  
  
***I know this looks like a possible ending point, but let me reassure you, it's not. Young Gohan's troubles aren't through yet—I intend to carry this through the Saiyaman Saga at least, and I am CONSIDERING going through Buu. R&R PLEASE!!! Once again, holds out tempting (yet fake) cyber chocolate for all those who review…*** 


	10. No More Monsters

[Disclaimer—I don't own DB/Z/GT.  
  
A/N—Yes, Vegeta WILL be showing up more in this. I don't, however, see Vegeta as a cuddly mentor-type guy who would seek Gohan out. I wrote a chapter with Vegeta in it for chapter seven but I had to scrap it and go on to the next—it just felt too forced. What these two have is sort of a wary, half respectful understanding—they have a lot in common, but I doubt they'd seek each other out—at least yet—they don't want to talk about it. As for Videl, she to will enter this story eventually, and she will play a big role—but ultimately this IS about Gohan and doesn't focus (at least yet) on his relationship with Videl. Ok, on with the story! =) Oh, P.S.—Gohan does still have his tail, but that's mostly just a result of not being there for Vegeta and Piccolo to cut it off. Tails are mostly used, I have noticed, to insert humor, or as an expression of emotion and, lol, quite frankly I forgot about his cute lil tail. I'm sure I'll eventually use it somewhere. Sheesh I'm getting longwinded! Ok, on to the story!]  
  
  
  
Gohan was nervous, though he didn't show it. He smiled up at the big green man next to him, and allowed himself some amusement as he listened to his mother rant at his father.  
  
It'd been a nerve-wracking three years. With Nimbus' testimony, Goku had been able, with time, to convince Gohan that he wasn't the walking hole of evil he had thought himself to be.  
  
Despite all of the things that had been done to him, all of the things that he himself had done, his heart still remained pure and selfless. Like a pearl floundering in a cesspool, Son Gohan's soul ached for goodness.  
  
It was partly that ache, and partly some inner core of remorse driven guilt that had lead him to work so hard these last few years. His studies, his training—Gohan excelled in everything he did—he felt he had to.  
  
After all, even if he hadn't meant to be, he was ultimately the cause of countless deaths. The weight tugged at his soul like Piccolo's heavy training weight tugged at the Namek's body. He had to somehow—atone. Make his life a worthy sacrifice.  
  
Although he was relatively content, and a bit excited to get on their way, Gohan was still anxious and somewhat disappointed in himself. No matter what he tried, no matter how long he trained, he still couldn't seem to master Super Saiyan.  
  
At first he hadn't even wanted to try. It was too haunting. His guilt and his desire for atonement drove him, however, and for the last year and a half, he had struggled to master his nightmare. He just couldn't seem to do it. Oh, he could easily allow himself to become a Super Saiyan; that was no problem. The difficulty lay in harnessing the rage.  
  
It was like he was stuck in an endless loop. Transforming brought with it a flood of memories—memories which fired his rage—the more he fought for control, the more he recalled what his lack of control had resulted in, in the past, which resulted in yet more memories. Every bout in his Super Saiyan form to date, had either resulted in him being knocked unconscious by Goku, or standing in a trembling face off with himself until his mind was finally overwhelmed with indecision and overloaded, causing him to faint.  
  
Startled from his thoughts, Gohan smiled as his mother swept him up in a hug. Any other ten, almost eleven-year-old boy would probably have shied away, or become embarrassed, but not Gohan. He'd gone enough years without hugs to learn to appreciate them. Following after his father, Gohan sent a quick prayer up to Kami, *Let me be ready.* They were going to fight the androids.  
  
_________________  
  
Arriving at the plateau where the others awaited, Gohan stood nervously out of the way while his father greeted all of his old friends.  
  
Smiling, he noticed a little purple haired infant in Bulma's arms. It reminded him of…oh. Gohan felt the pit drop out of his stomach as the baby squealed, sending a rush of familiar memories up to his brain. Stumbling over to the rock face, Gohan sank down, his knees pulled up to his chest.  
  
He had come to recognize the feeling when one was coming, over the last few years, but he still didn't know how to stop them. Attempting to appear casual, Gohan allowed himself to be swept away on the wind of old memories. It never did any good to fight them anyway.  
  
__________________  
  
Piccolo watched, a bit concerned, as Gohan stumbled over to the wall and sank down. To all normal appearances, Gohan seemed just to be resting, his eyes closed, against the rock. Piccolo knew better, however. From the tiny signals he received, eyelashes fluttering as if they were seeing something, muscles twitching, almost imperceptibly, Piccolo could tell that the boy was experiencing yet another flashback. Suddenly Gohan gave a small sigh and opened his eyes. Piccolo was relieved. It wasn't—right, somehow. It wasn't right that the boy should be so haunted.  
  
___________________  
  
Gohan opened his eyes and sighed with relief. He was glad it was over. He glanced at the baby that had sparked the memory. Even caught up in his flashback, he had heard them say it was Vegeta's child. Just a child.  
  
Then and there, Gohan made a silent vow. Up to this point, his goal had been to live his life and fight the androids for the sake of those whose lives he had taken. That was still his goal, but he had just added a new one to it. He would fight for the sake of that child. He would fight so that no other child had to know what he knew—so that Vegeta's child could actually BE child, as his father and Gohan had not been able to. Still feeling stained from his memories, Gohan made a promise. There'd be no more monsters. He was the last.  
  
____________________  
  
Goku looked up to see fire and determination in Gohan's eyes. He wasn't sure what had caused it, but he was well pleased.  
  
The past three years had seen the solemn broken boy transformed into—something else. He wasn't quite healed—Goku didn't know if he'd ever be, but he could live, and he could fight. Goku would always be there for him.  
  
Goku frowned as in the distance he caught sight of two specks floating in the air—they were people—flying—yet he couldn't sense their ki's! Looking grimly at his friends, Goku nodded to the pair in the sky as they descended into the city below. It was time to fight the androids.  
  
___________________  
  
Gohan watched from the sidelines as his father fought the evil android 19. At first he had thought that the thing looked sort of funny—like an evil marshmallow with blue eyes and poor fashion sense. Quickly, however, Gohan had come to fear him.  
  
Gohan looked on as his father struggled against the evil being. He just couldn't understand it. It shouldn't be like this. Goku should have been able to beat this guy, no problem. But there was a problem. His father was being beaten.  
  
Gohan had seen enough battles in his short life to be able to calculate the odds in them. When this fight had started, Gohan would have had no problem predicting that Goku would be the winner: hands down.  
  
Watching now, Gohan saw his prediction reversed. He felt the rage growing within him, that someone would do this to his father—the man who had loved and understood him so much over these last few years. The man who hadn't batted an eye at the few horrors that Gohan had let slip about his past. The only person in the world, besides his mother, who knew completely what he was and still accepted him.  
  
Feeling the rage reaching critical mass within him, Gohan struggled against turning Super Saiyan. Part of him gnashed and tore at the chains he had put on his power, but the sane, rational part screamed at him for control. And if there was one thing he didn't have in Super Saiyan, it was definitely control.  
  
Gohan's struggle was decided for him as a golden blur appeared and knocked android 19 into a nearby mountain. It was Vegeta! Gohan let himself sag a bit. He would let Vegeta handle this. A detached part of Gohan's mind distantly observed that here was yet another person who had ascended to Super Saiyan, and who was obviously in control.  
  
Gohan watched as Vegeta smirked down at Goku. His ears buzzed with rage as Vegeta mocked the fallen Saiyan, the kicked him towards the rest of the Z- Fighters. Gohan phased in before he had flown more than two feet and caught his battered father in his arms.  
  
Vegeta smirked at the angry boy staring up at him. "Well? What are you waiting for brat? Get that fool his heart medicine. I need him to get better. If anyone kills Kakkarott, it's going to be me."  
  
Gohan struggled to control his anger. His ki fluctuated wildly as his mind was gripped with rage.  
  
Carefully positioning Goku over his back, Gohan turned to Vegeta. "Don't mess with my father, Vegeta," he said in a low, deadly voice.  
  
Vegeta was a bit startled as he saw the boy's eyes flash back and forth from green to black. He felt a twinge of respect. "Get him out of here, brat."  
  
Gohan's eyes flared green again as he reiterated, "Don't mess with my father."  
  
Turning, Gohan leapt into the air, headed for home. Carefully shielding his father from the wind, Gohan thought of Vegeta, and the rage the older man concealed within. Remembering his promise earlier that day, on the cliff face where this all began, Gohan swore once again to himself that they were the last. There would be no more monsters.  
  
  
  
*Advertising*--Ok, I've never advertised anything before, but if you like this story, I suggest you read "What if…" by PurePsychicEspeon. This is a great fic, and I shamelessly admit I'm trying to get you guys to read and review it so I can selfishly read MORE CHAPTERS! ::Tempts:: It's about Gohan and Mirai Trunks….  
  
***Ok, nothing really to say, except THANKS FOR REVIEWING! Now go do it again! ::winks::*** 


	11. Kindred Spirits

Disclaimer- I don't own DB/Z/GT.  
  
A/N—Sorry—it took longer than I intended to get this out. A certain member of my family who will remain unnamed killed the computer—needless to say, he almost died as well, but I just reminded myself, HOMICIDE IS NOT THE ANSWER!  
  
______________  
  
Gohan sat at his father's bedside. He could hardly stand to, but there he sat. Everytime his father screamed it felt as if someone was digging at his soul with their fingernails—raking and scarring his heart.  
  
Goku had, all unknowingly, become the most important person in Gohan's life. He'd taught him everything that Gohan valued in himself. Everything good that was in him had come from his parents—but mostly from his father.  
  
As Goku's pained cries rang out through the cabin, Gohan fumbled for the little glass bottle that held his father's life. Carefully unstoppering the vial, Gohan brought it close to Goku's lips while Chi-Chi tried to calm his thrashing. Several seconds after the cold blue liquid trickled down his throat, Goku's expression calmed, and grew peaceful once again.  
  
Gohan couldn't stand it. His father was the best and kindest man alive. He didn't deserve to be lying here helpless, screaming in agony.  
  
For the first time in a long time, Gohan sent a wish out to the world. *Please. Please, just let my father get better. I don't know what I'd do without him.* It was a measure of the change in Gohan that he could even make a wish. He thought he'd given up on wishes a long time ago, after learning the hard way that they never came true. But his father had taught him different. Sometimes wishes were answered—and Gohan fervently hoped that this would be one of those times.  
  
Thinking back, Gohan fondly remembered the last few years, and all his father had done for him. It had been hard at times, but it had also been—fun. He'd had a birthday party. The first he could remember. When he had walked into the kitchen that morning, and his mother and father had smiled and wished him a happy birthday, he had been surprised. Slightly embarrassed, he had admitted that he hadn't known that the day was his birthday. Goku had smiled, and reassured him that there was nothing to be embarrassed about. They had gone out to spar as usual, but had stopped early. Gohan had been surprised when they returned home to find the house decorated, and the table set with all of his favorite foods. Another table had been set off to the side, and on it, rested several brightly wrapped packages.  
  
Gohan had been confused at first. He hadn't known what was happening. He had looked to Goku for answers, and his father had clapped a hand on his shoulder, some how sensing his confusion. "This is for you, Gohan. It's a birthday party—to celebrate the day you were born." He had said.  
  
At the time, Gohan had been shocked. All of this was for him? They did this all to celebrate HIS being born? At that moment, he had been overcome with such a rush of emotions that he'd hardly known how to deal with them—a party to celebrate HIS existence. Confusion and embarrassment quickly faded and were washed over with love and happiness. Here, in this place, people were happy that he was alive.  
  
He had quickly adjusted to Krillin and the Ox King, who had also attended the party, and had realized that it was possible to feel affection for someone you weren't related to, as he watched Piccolo stand in the corner, alone and unspeaking, but there none-the-less.  
  
Gohan sighed, watching his father, now sleeping peacefully. His strong face was unmarred by lines, and he looked for all the world as if he were just taking a nap.  
  
Gohan felt his heart leap to his throat as he heard the front door rattle. Jumping to his feet, he fell into a defensive stance before his father. The door burst open to reveal—Krillin? And the boy from the future! The other Super Saiyan.  
  
Krillin smiled reassuringly at Gohan. "It's ok Gohan—it's just us, but we need to move Goku—the androids are on their way here."  
  
Gohan's eyebrows shot up, "You mean you didn't defeat them? But, that guy," he pointed to Trunks, "and Vegeta are Super Saiyans!"  
  
Krillin shook his head. "It didn't make any difference. We were crushed—Goku is our only hope."  
  
Gohan looked down at his sleeping father. He was the hope for this world. Gohan looked up as the boy from the future spoke to Chi-Chi, "We have to get Goku out of here. We're taking him to Kame House, until he gets better."  
  
Chi-Chi nodded firmly. "Let's get going."  
  
______________  
  
Gohan arranged himself a bit more comfortably in the seat of the jet. From the front of the plane, Krillin called to the young man who was pacing in the back, "Come on, sit down Trunks! You're making me more nervous than I already am—and that's quite a feat!"  
  
Smiling, Trunks strapped himself in across from Gohan, only to see the boy staring at him curiously. "What is it,?" Trunks asked. Why was he looking at him like that?  
  
Gohan was surprised, but not unduly. "Trunks. You're Vegeta's son."  
  
Trunks hesitated a moment then nodded. Why not—it seemed that his secret was out—everyone else already knew. "Yes—I'm Vegeta's son from the future—a future where the androids have destroyed everything. I'm here to stop that from happening to this world—I can't save my own world, but maybe I can save this one."  
  
Gohan saw his own sadness reflected in Trunks' blue eyes. Here was someone else who knew what it was to be helpless—unable to affect your own destiny. "I know what you mean," Gohan replied hesitantly, "I want to save this world too," Gohan bit his tongue before he could say, 'for once.'  
  
Trunks looked at the small boy sitting across from him. His sensei as a child. He was startled to see the haunted look he knew so well present in this child's eyes as well. Remembering how they had found the boy's battered body in the rubble of Frieza's ship, Trunks lost his surprise. This Gohan may never have had to deal with androids ripping apart his world, but his eyes held the sag that told Trunks worlds had indeed ridden on his shoulders. And he knew the pain of failing them—or worse.  
  
Smiling, Trunks reached over to clap Gohan on the shoulder, a bit surprised as the boy jumped. "I can see we've got a lot in common Gohan. In my timeline—in my timeline, you were my sensei. You were a brave fighter like your father, and you fought valiantly against the androids. You have the same look in your eyes as the Gohan I knew. You're stronger than you know, Gohan. We won't fail."  
  
Gohan was a bit shocked. This man seemed to know his fears. Looking up, Gohan gazed into the purple-haired youth's eyes. Seeing the dark secrets floating beyond that pale blue, Gohan understood. Trunks knew his fears because he shared them. Giving a small smile, Gohan said, "I'm sure you're right Trunks. We'll succeed."  
  
Gohan focused inward as Krillin called Trunks up to the front to talk with Bulma on the radio. He couldn't fail this time. *Father, please, get better soon. We need you.* 


	12. Mission Control

Disclaimer—I don't own DB/Z/GT.  
  
A/N—Sorry this isn't being updated as often as it used to be—I'll try to get at least one chapter out every two days from now on—I've just been having a HUGE brain fart on seemingly ALL of my stories lately! I'd like to note, that this story may seem to be covering large chunks of DBZ time all at once—this is because this is mostly from Gohan's POV—Important and significant events that shape his life are what is important—we all know the story line. Ok, hope you like it!  
  
_____________________  
  
Gohan tapped his shoe. Tap. Tap. Tap. He could hardly contain his frustration. He wanted to be doing something. ANYTHING. Instead, he sat here, at Kame House, while Trunks and the others went to investigate the odd ki they had sensed.  
  
Gohan felt a shiver run up and down his body. It was too horrible. He knew the decision to leave him had been the right one—from the moment Gohan had felt it, he'd been a mess. Frieza's ki.  
  
Gohan's mind was awhirl with anger, frustration, hopelessness, terror. What if Frieza was back? What if he had somehow survived, and returned to reclaim him?  
  
Gohan knew that it was irrational. It was impossible. Even if Freiza really had returned, there was no way he could defeat two Super Saiyans—Vegeta and Trunks. Collarless as he now was, Gohan could even protect himself, if it came down to it. Yet still, when he had first felt that familiar ki…  
  
Gohan gave a small growl of frustration and embarrassment at what his reaction had been. He and Trunks had just returned from observing the time machine that Bulma had told them about, and the strange shell of the creature they had found near it. Entering the house, Gohan had been about to speak to his mother when he had felt it.  
  
Gripped by terror, Gohan had gasped and fallen shaking to his knees, confusion and panic surging through his body. The others had gathered around him, concerned. He had barely been able to speak. Luckily, he hadn't had to, as they had felt it as well, a second later.  
  
Gohan dug his fingers into the cushions of the couch he sat on and rocked back and forth. Tap. Tap. Tap. He felt like he was going crazy. He didn't blame the others for leaving him behind—not after he had been overtaken by a trembling flashback right there on the floor, in front of them all.  
  
That was what was so humiliating about it all. When he had finally pulled himself back together, he'd had no answers for their questioning stares. What was he to tell them? That he had just relived being virtually disemboweled by Frieza? That his pained screams were a result of feeling his intestines slide slowly through his fingers, and having them stuffed roughly back inside as he was flung into a regeneration chamber—that Gohan's moment of defiance had resulted in Frieza having a temper-tantrum and blowing up a star system?  
  
No. He had no answers to give them. Sometimes silence was kinder than the truth.  
  
Gohan ran a hand roughly through his hair. Yes. The decision to leave him behind had been the correct one—but it didn't stop him from being agitated. Gohan wanted to scream almost. He was being pulled in two separate directions. One part of him wanted to go find this Frieza-ki look-alike and demolish it. Wipe it out of existence. Another part, whimpered at the thought, and wished more than anything that his father would wake up so he could cower behind him.  
  
Gohan sternly suppressed that part. No—he wished for his father to get better, so they could fight, and defeat the androids. Nothing more.  
  
Gohan sighed, and put his head in his hands. He sometimes wondered—was this legacy of terror his destiny, or his punishment?  
  
____________________  
  
  
  
Almost an hour later, still in his contemplative position, Gohan was startled out of thought as the house shook. Rushing quickly outside, an involuntary smile leapt to his face. There, on the beach stood his father, alive, and looking healthy, once again.  
  
Gohan watched in subdued joy as his mother came flying across the beach and threw herself into Goku's arms. He even laughed a little as Goku tossed his wife a little too high in the air, in his efforts to prove his health, then caught her with ease.  
  
Gohan felt the fears and worries of the past days begin to be soothed away, by the mere presence of the man before him. His father was well again—things were going to be ok. Frieza or no Frieza.  
  
_____________________  
  
  
  
Gohan paced worriedly in front of the Room of Spirit and Time. He wasn't worried about training in there—no matter how harsh it was, he was confident that he had suffered worse. No—it was the flickering ki from the earth below that worried him.  
  
When his father had stopped him from going down to assist Piccolo, Gohan had been confused. Over the past three years, he had come to respect the Namek. Thinking on it, Gohan had concluded that Piccolo was the first one he could truly call friend. And his father had stopped him from coming to his aid.  
  
The blow had been a shock. When Gohan had openly defied his father and tried to fly to Piccolo's aid, Goku had stuck him. Of course, Goku had struck him before—they did spar together, but never as a form of punishment. And moreover, he had NEVER, not once, spoken harshly to him. The words had stilled Gohan more than a thousand blows would have.  
  
Gohan stopped his pacing to gaze at Goku whose jaw was clenched in frustration. Gohan knew his father cared—it was just so hard, to sit here and do nothing. Tien's ki was fading. Just as Piccolo's had.  
  
Gohan blinked in surprise as Goku surged to his feet with an oath and disappeared. His heart clenched with hope—perhaps…  
  
Gohan jumped back in shock as his father appeared with one arm around Tien, and his other hand grasping the arm of…Piccolo!  
  
Gohan felt a surge of happiness as he watched his father give the two wounded fighters a senzu bean. He hadn't realized how hard it would be to see a—friend—die.  
  
Gohan turned his attention back to the Time Room. He knew Piccolo wouldn't appreciate his tears, and his turned back gave him ample time to wipe them clear.  
  
Gohan tried to shake it off. Piccolo was ok—he needed to concentrate on the training that would insure his friend remained that way. Soon Gohan would be in that room, alone with his father for a year. The idea held a certain attractiveness for Gohan—he desperately wanted to spend time with his father. On the other hand, it contained his horror.  
  
For Gohan's goal was to train to defeat the androids, and this new menace—this creature called Cell. In order to do that, Gohan's mission when he entered the Room of Spirit and Time, was nothing less than mastery. His mission was control. Control of Super Saiyan.  
  
Gohan clenched his fists and repressed a shudder. He stared at the door to the Time Room, as if he could force Vegeta and Trunks to emerge by his will alone. He knew he would experience pain when he entered—pain was no stranger to Gohan, but this time the pain had a purpose, and the purpose had a face. His father and Piccolo's faces swam before Gohan's vision accompanied by a multitude of others. He would obtain it. *I can do this. I'll do it for you, father. And for you, Piccolo.*  
  
***R&R please!*** 


	13. Battles: Future and Fought

Disclaimer—I don't own DB/Z/GT.

A/N—Wow, what do ya know, I actually got this chapter out!  I think they will be coming a little more quickly now—I had problems with the Android Saga, but now that we are well into Cell, I know exactly where I'm going.  Watch out for frequent updating!  

______________

Gohan walked into the now vacant room behind his father, and as he was struck by the vast emptiness of it, he knew that the task before him would be harder than he had thought.

The brand new Saiyan body armor that Bulma had made them all had dredged up more than a few bad memories for Gohan.  It went tumbling to the floor as he placed the feeling of unease that the horrible whiteness caused.

It was his first.  There are many firsts in life, that people keep track of—first loves, first dances, first kisses—the first that Son Gohan was now recalling, however, was not one of these warmly cherished firsts that are held close to the heart for bleak future days.  The vast empty whiteness of this place reminded Gohan of a first that he would gladly forget—the first time he purged a planet.

The sky had been white.  Perhaps that's what brought forth the memory.  Perhaps it was the silence.  It had been silent after he had finished—the flames licking at the sky had made no sound—he'd been too far away to hear their roar.  Even had he been close enough to hear, Gohan doubted he would have—all he remembered of that day was the white of sky, and the sound of his heart pounding wildly in his ears *THA-THUMP, THA-THUMP, THA-THUMP.*

Gohan took a shaky breath and stooped to pick up the uniform that had fallen to his feet.  Turning, he saw his father looking at him quizzically, and gave him a shaky smile of reassurance.

Gohan distractedly removed the top of his gi, and sat down on one of the beds to remove his boots.

Goku studied his son as he sat to put on his new armor.  When they had entered the room, a flash of remembrance had passed over his face, and for just a second, those eyes had been shadowed with unfathomable grief.

Goku watched Gohan pull off his gi, and was surprised by the preponderance of scars that were etched onto the boy's young body.  Saiyans did not scar easily—for a Saiyan to scar, the injury had to be nearly life threatening.  There were literally dozens of scars covering Gohan's chest and arms, and when the boy bent over to unfasten his boots, Goku saw clear signs of beatings, criss-crossing his back.

Goku felt his stomach clench for his son.  After that first day, when he had revealed his past, Gohan had never said much more.  A few times, always after some severe flashback, he had let slip a few details, but Goku could always see how he regretted those slips.

Studying Gohan's solemn demeanor, Goku decided to try a little probe into his past.  Goku was no fool.  Gohan's inability to control Super Saiyan was not physical.  

The first time someone turned Super Saiyan, there was always a struggle against the rage, but it should have been no problem for Gohan to learn to control.  Gohan's problem was, that he had fought Super Saiyan all the way, and when it had finally been achieved, he had not _wanted_ control.  Control would only have meant that the collared-Gohan would have had to consciously murder.  Gohan was still fighting Frieza—he just didn't know it.

Goku cleared his throat, "Gohan."

Gohan looked up, startled.  He had been lost in his thoughts—in memories of a cold white sky, filled with smoke, and the screaming whine of his newly acquired power rushing through his veins.  "Huh?"

Goku chose carefully—the lashes covering Gohan's back were obviously not the appropriate topic to begin with—besides, they were too obvious.  Goku walked over to his son, and sat down on the bed beside him.  He pointed to a long gash running the length of Gohan's collar bone.  "Where'd you get this one, Gohan?"

Gohan was momentarily confused.  His father had never pried into his past before.  Looking up into Goku's serious eyes, Gohan realized that perhaps this was more than simple prying.  Goku looked intent, yet understanding.  For some reason, Gohan felt himself wanting to open up—after all, that scar had an interesting history to it.  Gohan smiled a bit.  "Actually," he said, reaching up to itch the scar in a nervous gesture, "that one was an accident.  Well, as much of an accident as it could be I suppose."

Goku raised a questioning brow, and nodded for Gohan to continue, setting back a bit on the bed, to listen to the story.

Gohan grinned, "It was right after I learned how to fly.  I had been caught and returned to the ship, and the guards brought me straight to Frieza.  They made the mistake of letting me go, however, and I used my new skills, and flew up near the ceiling."  

Goku laughed a little, "Guards weren't too smart."

Gohan smiled and shook his head, "No.  They weren't.  Anyway, none of them could fly, so eventually, they resorted to trying to shoot me down.  I dodged for a bit, but eventually I was hit.  I fell right out of the air, and onto Frieza's head.  He was in his transformation with those horrible horns, and it just sliced my shoulder right open.  I was in a lot of pain at the time, and I had somehow managed to kick Frieza in the head when I fell on him, and gave him a bloody nose."  Gohan's grin faded a bit, "That's how I got this one," he said, pointing to a large circular gouge in his rib cage.  "I don't think Frieza liked that I could give him a bloody nose, even by accident."  
  
  


Goku grimaced a bit at the severity of the second scar—he was quite sure that there was a matching scar on Gohan's back where Frieza's horn had broken through the other side.

Gohan, however, was smiling again, and pointed out another scar, telling a rather funny story of a six year old Gohan trying to hijack a Ginyu Force space pod.

After a few more stories, Gohan fell silent, and Goku took up the thread of conversation, pointing to a jagged scar that ran across Gohan's left shoulder, "What about this one?" he asked.

Goku realized he'd made a mistake when Gohan's liveliness died, and he paled rapidly.  In almost a whisper, he answered, "That—that one was given to me by a strong warrior.  A _very_ strong warrior.  He was…his planet's defender."  Gohan rubbed absently at the cut as if to rub it away, "He gave it to me right before I killed him."  Gohan looked into his father's eyes, "Right before I killed them all.  Everyone on his planet."

Gohan felt his organs quiver in remembrance.  The man—he had been so brave.  Gohan had fought him as a Super Saiyan—it had been the third time he had changed—Gohan remembered each time he had changed for Frieza—he might not remember each face, but every planet, every race, was imprinted on his memory.  Twenty-three in all, in the period of the two years he had been a Super Saiyan under Frieza.  

Luckily, Frieza had been injured (by Goku, Gohan had later learned) and the purgings had slowed, while Frieza was rebuilt.  Then had come the return to Earth, and Frieza's destruction…

Goku sat silent as Gohan shook his head and pulled on his new Saiyan body suit, hiding his physical scars, almost as well as the smile plastered to his face covered the mental ones.

Goku walked slowly over to where he had left his own armor, and began to pull it on.  They had work to do—Goku only wished that Bulma's new armor could protect his son from the battles he saw in their future.  

Goku knew that some wounds couldn't be prevented.  He only hoped that he was a skilled enough surgeon to operate when those wounds were inevitably revealed.  It was easier by far to fix a broken rib than a broken heart.

***More of Gohan's past is revealed.  ::Bashes Frieza over the head with a frying pan::  BAD FRIEZA!  R&R Please!***

***ADVERTIZING*--** Go read Mala in Se by Daughter of Chaos.  It's a great fic, and it's not getting NEARLY the reviews it deserves—funny, suspenseful, VERY well written, and best of all, UPDATED FREQUENTLY!  It's a Gohan/Videl, and the Great Saiyaman is accused of MURDER!  It's highly original, and I just HAVE to recommend it to you!  


	14. Trusting

Disclaimer—I don't own DB/Z/GT.

A/N—Hope you like this chapter!  Thanks to EVERYBODY for reviewing!  ::throws out kisses, hugs, and Mirai Trunks action figures indiscriminately::  

_________________

Gohan leaned on his palms, panting heavily.  In the time they'd been here—in this place—he'd come so close.  It'd been mostly because of his father—Gohan smiled a bit as he watched his father spar with the air, giving Gohan a chance to regain his breath.  It was so strange how they'd come to be so close, in such a short time.

Gohan blinked wearily, and shook his head, little beads of sweat, spattering to the floor.  At one time, he could never have imagined telling anyone his deepest, darkest secrets.  In the seven months that they had been training together in the Room of Spirit and Time, however, Gohan had retracted that 'never.'  

He'd told Goku things he thought he'd forgotten himself—things he'd wanted to forget—and found that the old cliché actually had it right.  'Pain shared is pain halved,' and his father was willing to take up that burden for him.

Whether it was through the sharing of old memories, or was simply a result of being confined together in such a small place for such a long period of time, Gohan had come to care for his father deeply.  Goku was the only one who knew his past—his entire past.  Gohan had left nothing out.

On long nights in that endless whiteness, they would discuss the past, and somehow, Gohan felt himself coming to grips with it.  

It was hard—so hard, to trust—to trust anyone.  But Gohan found that with each secret his lips poured forth, his love and trust grew, especially as Goku spoke not a word in condemnation.

Gohan loved his father.  Goku meant everything to him.  

Gohan stood up from the floor, and signaled his readiness to continue by lobbing a ki blast at the dark-haired Saiyan sparring in the distance.

As Gohan had expected, Goku dodged the blast with ease, and turned on his son with a grin, ready to continue their training.

As Goku attacked him, Gohan felt the whining buzz of power surging through his veins.  He knew he was close—close to Super Saiyan.

_______________

Goku saw the familiar look flicker in his son's eyes.  Gohan was close to transforming—close to losing control.

Goku's chin hardened and his lips thinned a bit.  He'd come to know Gohan better than he'd ever known anyone, excepting perhaps Chi-Chi, within these last few months.

Goku had been shocked and enraged at some of the horrors that Gohan had endured under Frieza.  Goku had known he was something of an innocent—had known he was a bit naïve to the cruelties that people were capable of inflicting on each other, but he had seriously underestimated the extent of that naivety.  

At times, Goku had even found himself feeling—vengeful.  A feeling that was completely foreign to his character and makeup, yet surfaced none-the-less every time a new scar was explained—every time a haunted look would inexplicably pass over Gohan's face at some seemingly innocuous comment—every time he was woken from a sweet dream of Chi-Chi to his son's terror filled cries from across the room.

Goku blocked, and jabbed, and finally flickered up to Super Saiyan as he saw Gohan about to do the same.  Goku firmly reminded himself that he trusted Gohan.  Trust was such an important thing—sometimes the most important thing in the world.  

Goku had a plan—a plan that would finally free his son from the grip of the past—but that plan all rested on the trust a father had for his son.

Goku looked into Gohan's eyes.  His turquoise eyes, surrounded by strands of shining golden hair.  Powering up, Goku forced a response from Gohan, brutally knocking him out of his internal struggle and back into the real world.

________________

Gohan stared at his father in shock, as rage battled with hurt.  His father had just blasted him—it came out of nowhere!  Why had he done that?!  Unable to stop his body's involuntary reaction, Gohan met Goku's Kamehameha wave with one of his own, struggling to overmatch his father.

Gohan was confused as his father grinned at him—what was he smiling about?!  What did he think he was doing?!  Gohan smashed to the ground as Goku phased in above him and planted an elbow hard in the top of his neck.

Gohan felt as if all sense had left him.  He had stopped even trying for control.  His ki fluctuated wildly, and settled at its highest level, as Gohan surged across the room at Goku, with only one thought raging through his body, 'Kill.'

Gohan came face to face with the smiling Goku, and swung an incredible kick at his father's head—a kick intended to maim—a kick intended to kill.  Suddenly, almost before he could comprehend what was happening, one of the pulsating golden glows vanished.  Goku had dropped out of Super Saiyan.

Gohan's foot stopped not two inches from his father's temple, as he stared at Goku in shock and terror, "WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR?!"  Gohan clutched at his racing heart, both feet now planted firmly on the ground.  He looked at Goku accusingly, "I could have KILLED you!"

Goku was looking at Gohan oddly.  Gohan couldn't figure out what was wrong with his father—first he drops out of Super Saiyan in the midst of a fight, and now he was looking at Gohan with some strange emotion.  Gohan had seen it a few other times on his father's face, though he didn't recognize it.  It was pride.

Goku grinned at his son.  Gohan didn't even realize what he'd done.  

Walking up to the irate boy, Goku held out Gohan's long mane of hair for the boy to see.  Gohan blinked.  It was still golden.  He was still a Super Saiyan.  Gohan stared at his father in astonishment—had he—had this been a test?  Had Goku really dropped Super Saiyan on purpose?  Did his father really trust him that much?

Goku smiled at the look of startled realization on his young son's face.  Putting a hand on Gohan's shoulder, Goku looked into his eyes.  He had to make him understand.  "You're free now, Gohan," Goku whispered intently.

For a second, Gohan did nothing, then he nodded mutely, still numb.  He understood.

***::Claps hands and jumps around happily::  Yeah, Gohan's torture is over!  ::mysterious voice:: Or is it?  R&R PLEEEEAAAASSSSEEE!***


	15. Mistakes

Disclaimer—I don't own DB/Z/GT  
  
_______________  
  
Gohan stood on the edge of the battlefield, hair still stiff and blonde. It had taken a few months to get used to it—heck, he was STILL getting used to it. Being able to control Super Saiyan. It was like an impossible dream suddenly revealed as attainable, and not only attainable, but attained!  
  
Watching his father fight the monster Cell, Gohan was struck by the similarities between this new monster and his old tormentor, Frieza. It wasn't that they were physically similar—they looked nothing alike—except for their eyes. They both had the same cold razor sharp eyes. The mere gaze of these eyes left the impression of cold slimy tracks across the skin. Gohan shuddered.  
  
It wasn't exactly that he feared this Cell creature—he was confident that together, he and his father could defeat the monster. It was just—there was some tiny childish part of his psyche that insisted he run away and hide before it happened again. IT. That vague nameless dread that encompassed his feelings on the years he had spent with Frieza.  
  
Gohan shoved that part of himself angrily away. On the surface of his mind, far above this primal, instinctive fear, boiled a tumult of emotions. Anger, tension, hope, and a fiery singing need that he couldn't readily identify. Vegeta would have recognized it well—it was the desire for revenge.  
  
Gohan glanced at the Saiyan prince who stood watching the battle between Cell and Goku impassively. Gohan knew there was something beneath that mask he wore—after all, Gohan himself had perfected that very same mask, and his emotions had never stopped. He found himself wondering if Vegeta felt the same fear that he did—that fear originating with Frieza that he kept bottled up at the very bottom of his soul.  
  
As if seared by the force of Gohan's gaze, Vegeta turned and glared at the boy. Gohan quickly turned away. He was curious about Vegeta—felt some strange sense of kinship with him, but they were like two live wires—there were inevitably sparks where they met. Gohan knew that Vegeta would never willingly talk about his time with Frieza—he'd heard some few things about the Saiyan prince during his own period of captivity, enough to know not to push him. Gohan turned his eyes back to the battle, resigned that his questions would never be satisfied.  
  
Goku was fighting strong, but he was getting tired. Gohan couldn't figure out why. Why wasn't his father fighting for real? Gohan watched in approval as Goku outwitted Cell, blasting the creature with a monster Kamehameha wave, disintegrating his head and upper torso.  
  
Gohan couldn't help but worry—his father seemed to be flagging. The question was—why? He must have some kind of plan. Gohan watched impassively as Cell regenerated his missing parts, as he had known he would. The others might have been fooled, but Gohan had sensed the ki emanating from the downed monster and had been unsurprised when he pulled himself together.  
  
Goku looked as if he were fighting rather desperately now. Gohan didn't understand. What was this? Gohan watched in astonishment as his father descended to the ground, and GAVE UP?!  
  
What was this, what was going on? Gohan looked down at his Goku in shock and his father met his eyes.  
  
Goku smiled, "You're up next, Gohan."  
  
*What? Me? Father expects me to be able to beat this guy?* Gohan thought in astonishment, ignoring the cries of protest from the people around him.  
  
Gohan listened a little shakily to his father's words as he convinced him, and the rest, that he could indeed fight Cell. Of course he hadn't had any trouble following their movements, but that was just because his father hadn't been using his full power, wasn't it?  
  
No. Apparently not.  
  
Gohan nodded firmly and shrugged off the white cape that Piccolo had gifted him with after he had exited the Room of Spirit and Time. Floating down in front of the monster who mocked him, Gohan felt something stir within his blood. It was that strange sense of need he had felt earlier. He couldn't let it gain control—it felt, wild—untamable. Struggling to keep himself in check, Gohan powered up, rejoicing in the feeling of the power running through his veins, rejoicing in the feeling of control, rejoicing in surge of righteousness he felt rather than rage. Son Gohan was ready. He would fight Cell.  
  
___________________  
  
Gohan stared down at the smashed head of Android 16 in horror. All this time he'd been holding back, trying to maintain control, and 16 had had to die for his mistake. Feeling the zipping tingle of power edging out beneath his fingernails, Gohan felt his control slipping. He let it. Screaming, Gohan threw his head back and let the rage take him.  
  
The coursing golden light exploded from Gohan's small body. His eyes were alight with a cold intense green, but all he could see was red. This creature—Cell. He was exactly like Frieza. He cause pain and suffering wherever he went. He deserved to die.  
  
The small whimpering part of Gohan's soul curled up into a ball and retreated before this wave of red-hot anger. Almost burned away, it fled to the darkest recesses of Gohan's mind, along with any trace of mercy, and most traces of rational though.  
  
Gohan stalked his prey. 1….2….3….4….5….6….The Cell Jr's were dead. It was just that easy. But it would not be that easy for Cell. Cell deserved to pay for what he'd done. The burning red film over Gohan's eyes distorted Cell's face, so it flickered and flashed, looking almost like Frieza to the enraged boy. He was going to pay.  
  
Gohan vaguely heard his father screaming in the background to finish him off. Right. Gohan turned calmly to face his father. He had to understand. "No. He deserves to pay for all he's done. To everyone." Gohan finished silently, *to me…*  
  
Turning away, the boy never saw the distraught look cross Goku's face. He stalked his prey with deadly intent. The ki signature was so similar to Frieza's in so many ways. It was the first time he'd faced this ki signature unhindered—the first time he was predator rather than prey.  
  
Gohan's eyes narrowed on Cell as the creature began to swell, bloating to several times his normal size. His words…he was…he was going to self destruct? Destroy the earth?! As the words sank in, sanity rushed back into Gohan's mind with a thud, and he felt himself sink to his knees. "No…" Gohan choked out.  
  
"Goodbye my son."  
  
Gohan's head shot up to see his father standing next to Cell, fingertips to his forehead. Stunned realization chased shock through his brain. "No—FATHER!"  
  
Gohan's head sagged, and he felt his heart clutch spasmodically as he realized what had happened. It was too late. Goku was gone. Dead. And it was all his fault.  
  
  
  
***::sniff, sniff:: Goku's DEAD! R&R please*** 


	16. Haunted

Disclaimer—I don't own DB/Z/GT  
  
A/N--::stares warily at reviewers:: You guys know I love you, right? ::gulp:: On with the story…  
  
_____________  
  
Gohan stared despondently at the smoking crater that had been created as a result of his and Cell's final clash.  
  
Goku had died for nothing, and from the smoke had torn a beam of light, ending Trunks' life too.  
  
Cell had returned. Returned and almost killed them all. Gohan had barely survived. During the struggle, he had imagined that he had heard his father's voice in his head, urging him on. He'd been wrong of course—hearing voices—yeah right. His father was dead, and it was all his fault. All his fault.  
  
Gohan's blank gaze searched the rim of the gaping hole for any trace of Android 16. Not even a shard of metal remained of the brave being. He was alone. All alone, with only his thoughts to keep him company—to torment him.  
  
Everyone had left a while ago. He'd made them leave, insisting he wished to be alone. Even Piccolo had left after he had asked him to—he just wanted to be alone…  
  
Gohan's mind felt—blank—like an icy white sheet of marble—nothing touched it. Screaming beneath the surface, Gohan knew his emotions still churned somewhere down below, just as he knew, with a sickening certainty, that he'd added another face to the innumerable list of his victims today.  
  
No—not Cell. Defeating Cell was one of the few good things he had ever done in his life—a small step towards possible redemption for impossible sins. No—this new victim was none other than his own father. He'd killed him as certainly as if he'd done it with his own hands. Killed him thorough inaction. Through arrogance. Through pride. Through ANGER. That damnable anger that had possessed him for so long—that ruled over his very soul.  
  
In a stark, bleak way, it was now quite obvious to Gohan that there was no escape from it. The anger. He felt strangely detached, almost serene. An oddly frozen certainty had replaced the roiling turmoil he'd felt for so many years, and washing away all other emotions, overriding them like a breath of fresh air, was relief.  
  
The relief was overwhelming. He didn't have to fight it anymore. He would finally achieve the ultimate atonement, in the only way he knew how. His sins would be washed away when his soul was sent to hell and cleansed. Gohan found this thought slightly amusing. Blood might not wash away sins, but King Enma sure did!  
  
Gohan extended his senses cautiously into the distance. He didn't want anyone to know what he was planning. Until it was too late. Sensing no one around, Gohan sat down to wait. To wait until the dragon was summoned, and had granted the wishes of the summoner. Gohan was a very smart boy—he knew to wait. He would not be deprived of his rightful place in Hell.  
  
__________________  
  
On Kami's lookout, the Dragon had been summoned. The wishes had been made, and Shenlong had returned to his slumber.  
  
Trunks sat up painfully on the deck of the lookout, blinking his eyes rapidly, trying to wash away images of Otherworld.  
  
Surrounded by joyful cries, Trunks smiled weakly up at his new friends. Just as he opened his mouth to ask what had happened, Trunks felt an incredible surge of energy in the distance.  
  
Every ki-sensing head on Kami's lookout snapped towards the direction of the energy surge. Most faces were etched with confusion, but Trunks had a sickening feeling he knew what had just happened. A cold mirror from within reflected Trunks' own face at fourteen when Gohan died. Perhaps he knew, because he knew the desire, knew the compulsion. Glancing at Piccolo, Trunks saw his own fears confirmed in the Namek's eyes. Normally cold and aloof, Piccolo's face was shocked, and horrified. The rest of the Z-senshi, save Trunks whose head was already bowed in grief, turned questioning gazes on Piccolo as he murmured, "Shit."  
  
__________________  
  
Gohan felt it. The dragon had been summoned, and freedom was near at hand. That's how he viewed it. Freedom. Freedom from sins that had grown too heavy to carry.  
  
Gohan stumbled heavily to his feet, and with a tortured scream, powered up to Super Saiyan 2 once again. With the last of his strength, dredged from unknown depths out of pure desperation, Gohan fired a Kamehameha wave—his father's trademark attack. As Gohan zipped around in front of the blast, he mused to himself that it was fitting—fitting that his father's attack should be the one that killed him. Sort of poetic justice that the pure attack of the father should burn the evil that was his son from the world forever.  
  
Arriving in front of the blast, Gohan closed his eyes, and dropped Super Saiyan. As the blast hit the black haired child, he barely felt the pain as it burned into his skin. So great was his emotional burden, all he felt was relief.  
  
___________________  
  
Gohan blinked heavily, to find himself standing in a long line of white blobs. Cautiously, he approached the huge desk set in the center of the room, and addressed the red figure behind it. "Are you King Yemma?"  
  
King Yemma looked up at the child standing in front of him. He was vaguely familiar. Looking down at his notes, Yemma saw that the boy's name was Son Gohan. Son—the name clicked, and Yemma smiled. "Ahh, yes, you're Goku's boy! Let's see, we've got you scheduled to go to the Grand Kai's planet to train with your father."  
  
Whatever Yemma had been expecting, it wasn't the reaction that he got. The boy's young face crumpled like worn paper, and he fell to his knees sobbing into his hands.  
  
Yemma was unsure of what to do—his shock was magnified when the boy gazed up at him out of torture-filled eyes, and made a plea.  
  
"Please—just send me to Hell! It's where I deserve to go, don't you understand?" the hysterical child shrieked, "I killed them, I killed them all, my father, Trunks, all those people, it's all my fault! I was just kidding myself thinking I could ever do anything good! Please," Gohan begged, "send me to Hell and erase my soul—I just can't take anymore of this!"  
  
Yemma didn't know what to say, finally, after several seconds of looking down into the huddled child's pleading eyes, he managed, "Anymore of what?"  
  
Gohan seemed at a loss for words for a moment, then gazing up into the red man's eyes, he captured it. "Existing."  
  
Yemma didn't know how to handle this. Finally, he shook his head and said gently, "I'm sorry, but I can't send you to Hell."  
  
These simple words seemed to send the child into a kind of emotional Hell, as he curled up on the floor and was wracked with heaving sobs.  
  
Yemma looked up in shock as someone else appeared in the room beside his desk. He was relieved to see that it was the boy's father, Goku, along with King Kai.  
  
Yemma looked on as Goku knelt at the shaking boy's side, and gently lifted him into his arms.  
  
Looking up at the King of the Underworld, Goku held his shivering son close to his chest. Goku felt a coldness that he'd never felt before as he addressed Yemma. "You'd better make sure you keep Frieza safe down there in Hell, Yemma," Goku hissed between his teeth, cradling Gohan closer, "If I ever get hold of him again, I'm going to make your Hell seem like a Paradise."  
  
With these words, Goku stalked from the room, followed closely by King Kai. The only sign that they had been there at all was the sound of Gohan's heart wrenching sobs as they retreated down the long hall, and into Otherworld.  
  
  
  
***Dodges flying vegetables. ::yelps:: this isn't the end, this isn't the end! I did mention that the time limit on wishing people back has been lifted for the sake of this story, didn't I? You guys should have seen this coming, I foreshadowed it at every turn! R&R please!*** 


	17. Healing

Disclaimer—I don't own DB/Z/GT! I do own the tapes that are coming out tomorrow, however—can you believe I bought them in advance?!  
  
_________________  
  
The Z-senshi sat solemnly, gathered in the living room at Capsule Corporation. Over the years, this room had come to represent a sort of safe haven, a place where they did not have to hide who and what they were. They had gathered here for parties and picnics, barbecues and births, and, as was the case today, for deaths.  
  
  
  
Always it had been for deaths in battle—deaths where the victim could be revived, and when they couldn't, this room had played host to feverish and impossible plans, all intent on doing the impossible—rescuing Life from Death. Today the memory burdened room played host to such plans once again.  
  
  
  
Few of the senshi really understood what had happened. Perhaps only two of the whole group understood the kind of gnawing self-loathing that had driven the boy—little more than a child, really, to such an incomprehensible act.  
  
  
  
One of these two sat pale faced next to his young mother, purple bangs masking eyes that shimmered with tears at the loss of his beloved sensei once again, even if it was in another world. The second, who just happened to be father to the first, had taken off for parts unknown and there remained—left alone to deal with his conflicting emotions at the death of his son and the death of his fiercest rival, who he had been so sure he hated, but whose noble sacrifice mere hours before had filled him with an angry respect, and more confusion than he could possibly have imagined.  
  
  
  
Sitting silent and alone, Vegeta had felt the strange but powerful surge of energy as Shenlong, the eternal dragon, had brought his son Trunks back to life. A moment later, he had also felt the brief but intense flare as Gohan's ki had snuffed itself from existence.  
  
  
  
On a rock in the middle of nowhere, Vegeta's surroundings made a stark contrast to the turmoil and tumult inside of his head. Unspeaking he sat. He had a lot to think about.  
  
________________  
  
At Capsule Corporation, Piccolo had explained to them all a little bit of Gohan's past. Just the few, tiny revelations he had allowed, had set the Z- senshi off with reactions ranging from stunned silence to an angry hornet like buzzing from Yamcha.  
  
  
  
Bulma was the first to get over her anger—from the few things Vegeta had revealed to her, she had come to have a more realistic view of his and Gohan's lives under Frieza. With the cloud of anger pushed to the side, Bulma explained her plan to the others. Namek. The Dragonballs there. It was foolproof—Goku and Gohan would be back before the month was out!  
  
  
  
Interrupting their excited exclamations, a familiar voice echoed through the Brief's living room, "Hey, don't I get a say in this?"  
  
  
  
Krillin looked up, eyes wide with astonishment, "G-Goku?"  
  
  
  
There was a small smile in Goku's voice, "Yeah—hi guys, it's me! Listen, I know this might be hard, but I really need for you to listen to me. I've got Gohan with me up here, and I don't want you guys to trying to wish us back."  
  
  
  
On the couch next to Bulma and Trunks, Chi-Chi's eyes widened and filled with tears, "But Goku—w-why?"  
  
  
  
Goku's voice was sad, but everyone could hear and was shocked by, the anger behind it, "It's Gohan. He-he's in really bad shape. I think if you tried to wish him back right now, he'd just find some way to kill himself again."  
  
  
  
Chi-Chi muffled a gasp, slapping a hand down over her mouth as the tears spilled over the rims of her eyes.  
  
  
  
Goku continued, a bit more gently, "I'm sorry Chi—you just don't know, I mean I didn't even know, how much he blames himself for everything. I'm here in Otherworld with King Kai—he thinks he can help Gohan, and I want to let him try. So please, don't go to Namek, and don't try to revive him when the Dragonballs charge, ok? I'll be in contact via King Kai when he's ready to come back. And speaking of coming back, I don't think it's that good of an idea that I do." Goku went on to explain his feelings on why he shouldn't return, focusing on the fact that everyone who had attacked the Earth in recent years had somehow been looking for him. "Anyway, I've got to go guys, I'm holding up the line," a distinct mental chuckle from King Kai echoed through all of their minds, "Remember, I'll see you all again someday, and I'll call you when Gohan's ready to come home."  
  
The voice faded and there was nothing left but the lingering presence of their old friend who was now gone for good. Solemnly, the Z-senshi sat in huddled silence. They, too, had a lot to think about.  
  
_________________  
  
Four years passed with relative calm. There were no great enemies, no momentous battles. Of all people, it turned out to be one of the weakest and most comic fellows at the Cell Games by the name of Hercule Satan who took credit for the defeat of Cell. Aside from restraining the remaining Z- senshi from blowing the fool up, Bulma did little but work and raise her son in peace until the call from heaven came.  
  
  
  
Over the years, Bulma and Chi-Chi had grown closer—with the birth of Goten, it was almost inevitable, as the chibi's enjoyed fighting almost as much as their fathers. Bulma sometimes thought it was only Goten that kept Chi-Chi sane—she knew the other woman had been nearly inconsolable at the loss of her husband and her first son again—it was only the news that she was pregnant that had allowed Chi-Chi to pull out of her funk and start living again—not for her own sake, but the baby's. Bulma was quite sure that Goten had saved Chi-Chi's life.  
  
  
  
It was on a calm, peaceful day in late spring, that Bulma received word. She didn't know why she was the chosen recipient of the news, but she could only guess that Goku didn't want to bring up painful memories for Chi-Chi with the sound of his voice. Goku's news was good—Gohan was ready to come home.  
  
_________________  
  
Somewhere in Otherworld, a fifteen-year-old Gohan sat a bit despondently. He didn't really want to leave this place that had been a haven for him, but he knew his father wished it, so he would do it.  
  
  
  
Gohan had been a bit surprised, but not unpleased that he had aged in Otherworld—asking King Kai, he had been informed that children who died were allowed to mature normally, for they had never reached their prime, which was the age all souls were returned to when they shed their bodies and entered the afterlife.  
  
  
  
Gohan was worried about his return—what the others would say. He felt a faint sense of shame for killing himself—it had seemed to be such a good idea at the time, but now it seemed a faint, sort of cowardly way out. Gohan was by no means convinced of his goodness, but he was also less sure of his evilness now. He had actually met a few of his victims in the afterlife, and had been surprised when they hadn't blamed him—most had actually pitied him! He hadn't actually been able to gauge his own reaction to that pity—the idea had been foreign to him that those he hurt might not agree with his sense of guilt and blame.  
  
  
  
Gohan sighed and rubbed a hand nervously through his hair. He would go back. Patched and incomplete as he was, he would go back and make amends through life, rather than death. No longer shattered, not quite healed, Gohan knew that there'd always be something dark and abiding within his soul—something mocking him from within.  
  
  
  
Shutting away his thoughts, Gohan pulled himself to his feet—he had some goodbyes to make before he lived once again.  
  
  
  
***Hope you liked the chapter, sorry it took so long—I had trouble maturing Gohan—anyway, R&R please!*** 


	18. Welcome Back

Disclaimer—I don't own DB/Z/GT

A/N—Instead of several short chapters, I wrote one long one to make up for the fact that I haven't updated this in awhile.  I hope you like this chapter =)

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It was an odd group that stood awaiting a miracle on Kami's lookout.

Bulma had tried to keep them away, but ultimately, she was unsuccessful.  In addition to Bulma, Chi-Chi, Dende, Popo, and the two young boys, Trunks and Goten, Krillin, Yamcha, Piccolo, 18, Tien, Chiaotzu, and last, but certainly not least, the Ox King stood in a loose circle around the seven Dragonballs that had been gathered to wish Gohan back to life.

Krillin and Yamcha had insisted, despite the arguments presented by Bulma that too many people might frighten the boy.  18 had come with Krillin, and the Ox King had come with Chi-Chi, while Tien, Chiaotzu and Piccolo had just shown up at the appropriate time, without invitation.  Bulma sighed, and put a hand to her forehead; at least Vegeta wasn't here.

Bulma groaned as Vegeta levitated lazily over the edge of the lookout and smirked knowingly at Piccolo.  Piccolo smirked back.

Bulma sighed.  "Ok, since all of you decided to show up, despite the fact that I asked you not to," Bulma shot a significant glance at Vegeta, who ignored it, "I guess we might as well get things started."

Bulma walked confidently up to the pulsating Dragonballs, relieved that none of her hesitation showed.  She was nervous.  What would they say to him when he arrived?  He was Goku's son, and for that she loved him almost as much as if he was her own, but there was no denying that the boy was troubled.  Who wouldn't be after the life he had lead?  Was he ready?  Could he really handle living again?  Bulma straightened her shoulders and lifted her hands.  It was time to find out.  "Come forth, Shenlong, and grant me my wishes!" 

Trunks and Goten gasped in amazement at seeing the Eternal Dragon for the first time.  A raging tempest of barely controlled power shot from the glowing balls and engulfed the tower.  With a little squeak, Goten sought shelter behind his mother.  Chibi Trunks was terrified himself, but one glance at his stern, unmoving father made the child stiffen his knees and raise his chin defiantly.  Vegeta, seeing Trunks' reaction, suppressed a smile.  The boy was a true Saiyan.

As the shimmering light faded from Shenlong's coils, his voice rumbled across the lookout.  **_"You who have summoned me.  I will grant you two wishes, but choose wisely, for they will come true."_**

Bulma gulped, and nodded in agreement.  "I wish for you to bring the boy, Son Gohan, back to this dimension."

The dragon paused for a moment, then nodded, **_"Your wish has been granted."_**

Bulma and the others looked around eagerly, when a faint golden glow suffused the space directly in front of the dragon.  When the haze cleared, they saw a boy, perhaps fifteen, with unruly spikes of black hair.  He wore an orange and blue gi, and smiled hesitantly when he saw the group of people before him.

*Oh, Kami, this is so embarrassing.  Why are they all here?*  Through his embarrassment, Gohan felt a flush of happiness as he saw his mother.  She looked well, though there were a few more worry-lines around the black eyes that were now filling with tears.  Gohan stepped towards her and offered a small smile, "Hello, Mother."

With a muffled sob, Chi-Chi threw herself at her eldest son.  "Gohan, oh, Gohan, you're back!  And you're…you're….you're so tall!" She finished, laughing a bit as she dabbed at her tears with the back of her hand.

Gohan smiled slightly, and explained in a soft voice, "King Kai said that when a child…..dies…..they are allowed to continue growing until they reach their majority."

Chi-Chi sniffed a bit, and ran her hand through his hair, trying futilely to arrange it into some semblance of order.  "Yes, well, you won't have to worry about that next time, will you Gohan.  Next time, you'll be long past your majority, and I'll be long dead, with a horde of grandchildren, isn't that right?"

Gohan blushed a bit, but nodded submissively, knowing she needed the reassurance.  "I won't do it again, Mother." He said in almost a whisper.

Chi-Chi nodded and rested a hand on his cheek.  "Good."

Across the lookout, Vegeta snorted and levitated a few feet into the air.  "Remember that promise, brat," he said, glaring at Gohan, "I don't want to have to put up with the screeching and wailing again." He hesitated for a moment, then added, "Welcome back," before blasting off in the direction of Capsule Corporation.

Piccolo looked after Vegeta for a moment, then nodded his head and looked at Gohan, "What Vegeta said goes double for me, kid.  Come and see me when you get settled in," he said, rising into the air.  With a small smile, Piccolo shot off in the direction opposite to the one Vegeta had gone in.

Gohan looked at his toes in embarrassment.  It was rather obvious that they had come to prevent him from killing himself again if he'd had any second thoughts about his return.  A red flush of emotion, he wasn't sure if it was anger or shame, found its way to Gohan's cheeks.  He was in the midst of trying to figure out how to break the awkward silence, when a small voice did it for him.  

"Are you my brother?"

Gohan blinked in shock at the small head that was sticking out from behind his mother.  For one wild, crazed moment, he was sure that it was his father—they looked that much alike.  

Crouching, Gohan looked up at his mother, who nodded proudly.  Gohan studied the tiny child before him.  He had not been much older than this small boy when Frieza had taken him.  Gohan felt a sudden surge of protectiveness overtake him.  In this child, this boy who looked so much like his father, THEIR father, he saw salvation.  "Hai," Gohan said with a small smile, "I'm your big brother.  My name's Gohan—what's your name?"

The black eyes blinked widely and a slow grin crept over the little boy's face.  Rushing out from behind his mother, the boy leapt on Gohan, bearing him to the ground and sitting on his chest, "My name's Goten," he crowed, "And I've always wanted a big brother!  Mommy's told me all about you, and how you'd come back someday, and you did!" he exclaimed, obviously happy that his mother's words had proven true, "And guess what, brother?" Goten continued, "I caught this BIG LIZARD!  He's soooooo huge, and I named him Gohan 'cause he's so cool, just like I knew you'd be….." Goten rambled on obliviously, and Gohan looked up somewhat helplessly at his mother.

Chi-Chi stifled a giggle at the expression on her elder son's face.  "It's true, Gohan.  He did name him after you.  He even sleeps with the damned thing…"

Krillin and Yamcha chuckled as Trunks ran over and jumped on Gohan beside Goten.  

"OOF!"

"Hi, my name's Trunks!  You're Gohan, huh?  My dad talks about you sometimes." Across the concourse next to 18 and the others, Bulma blinked in surprise: she'd never heard Vegeta mention anything about Gohan.  Trunks continued, blind to Gohan's overwhelmed expression as he tried frantically to listen to both chibi's at once, "And Goten's my best friend in the whooooole world, and I've always wanted a big brother—will you be my big brother too, Gohan?" Trunks pleaded.

Goten stuck out his lip, "Hey, find your own brother, Trunks!"

"I don't think there's enough of him to go around," an amused 18 commented to Bulma.

At the sound of 18's voice, Gohan leapt to his feet and roughly shoved the two children behind him, falling into sparring stance as easily as breathing.  Ignoring the awe filled 'wow's' of the children, Gohan shot 18 a glare, "What are you doing here?!"

Krillin leapt to his wife's defense, "Hey, calm down Gohan, 18's on our side."

18 stepped in front of her husband.  Gohan was surprised to see that she was quite obviously pregnant.  "Let me handle this Krillin."  18 looked at Gohan expressionlessly, "I've changed.  I don't know what I can do to prove it to you, but can you, of all people, deny me the right to do so?"

Gohan stared at her as if stricken.  Slowly standing from his crouch, he bowed his head.  "No.  I can't.  I have no right." With a smile that looked forced, Gohan ruffled the hair of Trunks and Goten who stood beside him and turned to Krillin.  "Congratulations."

Gohan ignored the angry look that Krillin shot his wife, and turned questioningly to his mother, "Can we go home now?"

Chi-Chi nodded, and they took a step towards the edge of the platform.  Gohan was surprised to see his little brother stick out an arm and call Flying Nimbus to him.  Gohan looked fondly at the golden cloud—it had been central in happy memories of his youth before Frieza, and had helped to heal him after.

Chi-Chi settled herself on the cloud behind Goten.  As Gohan floated into the air, a deep rumbling clearing of the throat was heard behind the little trio.

Gohan spun quickly around.  It was Shenlong!  Gohan was a bit embarrassed to admit, even to himself, that he'd forgotten the eternal dragon was there—after all, he was kind of hard to miss.  Gohan blushed up at the Dragon, "Umm, yes?"

Shenlong, if it was possible, actually sweatdropped, **_"Your second wish?"_**

"Oh."  Gohan thought for a moment, then glanced hesitantly at 18, "Umm, can you…can you bring back the people that I killed?"

The dragon's eyes glowed thoughtfully for a moment, **_"This wish cannot be granted."_**

Gohan bit his lip, afraid of the answer he might receive, "Why not?"

"The number of people is too great, and, were a portion wished back, they would have nowhere to go.  Their planets no longer exist.  They would appear in space, and die again."

Gohan bowed his head, not daring to look at the faces of the people around him.  Now they knew—knew he was a murderer so many times over that even the Eternal Dragon, who had revived all of Cell's victims, could not save him from his sins.  

Gohan nodded, and cleared his throat as a thought struck him, "Can you remove my tail?"

Shenlong's eyes glowed red, **_"This is within my power.  Is this your wish?"_**

Gohan nodded, and the pressure around his waist faded painlessly.

"What'd you do that for, Gohan?" Asked Yamcha, confused, "Goku loved his tail—I thought all Saiyans were like that!"

Gohan glanced at the older man and shrugged.  "Not me.  The only thing I've ever gotten out of my tail is pain, and I'm glad to be rid…"

Gohan was cut off as the voice of the eternal dragon boomed out, **_"Your wish has been granted, farewell…"_**

The two chibi's watched in astonished delight as the Dragonballs took to the sky and sped in different directions.  Even Gohan was entranced.  He'd never seen this before, after all.

As the Dragonballs faded in the distance, Gohan turned to his mother, "Ok.  We can go now."

"Gohan!" 18 called out from across the concourse.  

Slowly, Gohan turned, and looked over his shoulder.

18's face was unreadable, but her hand, which rested lightly on her abdomen, clenched and unclenched spasmodically, "I shouldn't have said that.  I apologize."

Gohan smiled a little and ruffled Goten's hair as Trunks headed back to Bulma, "No.  It's ok—you were right.  I'm in no position to judge you, or anyone else.  Congratulations on the baby, 18."  With a small wave, Gohan leapt into the air, carrying his newly discovered brother who squealed with delight.  

Looking at the Goten's cheerful face, and thinking of Trunks' equally happy grin, Gohan was suddenly glad he'd come back.  Even the confrontation with 18, and Shenlong's inability to wish back his victims couldn't stifle his mood.  

In Otherworld, he hadn't been able to think of a single good reason to live again.  Now he had two—their names were Goten and Trunks.  

***A long chapter, hope it makes up for the wait, R&R please!***

*Advertizing*-Silver Terror by Lanfir Leah storyid= 637802  This is a story about Trunks.  There is a disaster in his time, and he returns hopeless and broken to the past to bring them news.  I really don't do this story justice, it's an incredibly angsty fic, and very good—definitely worth a read!


	19. To Live Again

Disclaimer—I don't own DB/Z/GT

A/N—Two days, two chapters!  Alright!  Ok, hope you like this, getting back on an angsty track here.

________________

School.  He didn't WANT to go to school.  But he wasn't being asked what he wanted—he was being ordered.

It'd been a little over four months since he had returned to the living world, and in that time, he had fallen into a comfortable routine.  Study, play with Goten, take Goten to see Trunks and play with them both.  He had even started training with Vegeta.  Aside from certain—other things that came with his return, life was, well, pretty good.

One of those 'other things' was Goku.  He missed his father terribly.  Goku had been a stabilizing force in his life since he had returned to this planet.  He had first found safety in his father's arms, and now, that shelter was gone.  

Also, there were the dreams.  In Otherworld, he hadn't dreamed, and he certainly hadn't missed them.  On his first night back, however, he had awoken in a cold sweat to a particularly disgusting and insidious nightmare that had haunted him in the years before his fight with Cell.  His dreams were back, and they were back with a vengeance.

The dreams weren't the only horrors to return.  The flashbacks were also back.  They weren't as common as they had been, but when they overtook him, they left him trembling on the floor with their intensity, as he had found out one sunny afternoon, playing with Goten and Trunks.

It had been bad.  The flashback hadn't been the worst part, though it left him gasping and trembling with fear, huddled in a ball on the ground.  The worst part had been the questions of Goten and Trunks, their innocent young eyes filled with worry for their 'big brother.'  Trunks had run to get Vegeta, whose expression had been unreadable, coming upon the scene.  

Gohan had seen a knowing look flash across the older man's face as the boys recounted the names he had screamed in his terror.  Zarbon, Jeice, Recoom.  The expression had filled him with more shame and rage than he had thought himself capable of—and then even MORE shame at the extent of his rage.  But mostly, fear—he'd never wanted his father so much as at that moment.

Shortly afterwards, Vegeta had started training with him.  Gohan figured that in the absence of 'Kakarott,' he was the next best choice to beat into the ground.  And now school!

It wasn't that he didn't like studying, and learning—in fact, he liked them more than fighting.  No blood, no pain, only the scent of the pages, and the quiet electric hum of the lights overhead as he transported himself away, if only for a little while.  Learning was one of his greatest joys—it gave him time away from being—himself.

Chi-Chi had been pleased.  Shocked to the extent of actually fainting, but pleased, that Goku had found a way for Gohan to keep up with his studies in Otherworld.  Gohan chuckled a bit at the memory, King Kai had said, "_If I can find a way to keep a black hole like Goku supplied with food, do you honestly think I can't manage to scrounge up some books from Earth?"_  And he had.  History, literature, poetry, mathematics, science, languages—all of these, and much more.  Not only that, but he had actually met a few of the figures that had MADE history.  For example, Gohan _knew_ himself to be very well versed in modern physics—who wouldn't be with Einstein for a tutor?  Gohan chuckled a little—his dad never HAD told him how he'd managed to swing that.  Gohan hadn't even thought that Goku knew who Einstein WAS.

But school.  That was something different.  It wasn't just books and electric lights, and loosing yourself for hours upon end—it was people.  People his own age who were sure to be curious.  He couldn't help but think that everything would be harder to hide from so many prying eyes.  

He'd gotten used to the Z-senshi—they all knew his past, to an extent, and none of them condemned him for it.  But now, he had to face the unknown—hordes of faces who knew nothing about him, who he was, what he'd been through.  Gohan found himself idly wondering if anyone could ever really understand, besides his father and Vegeta.  His experience was too out of the mainstream, too—strange.

How could he expect any of them to understand what it was like to be enslaved to an evil tyrant—his toy, his plaything.  How could he expect them to know the horror he had felt when the light from some innocent's eyes had died beneath his hands.  No.  They could never find out.  He would keep himself in the background, as he wished to do anyway, and he would be shy Gohan with no friends.  It was for the best.

Slowly pulling his bag over his shoulder, Gohan set off for his first day of high school.  He was as ready as he'd ever be.

_____________

Gohan walked slowly down the street.  He was going to be late if he didn't hurry, but he didn't really care.  Drag….drag…drag…he was going to ruin his shoes if he kept this up!

Gohan was lost in his thoughts as he heard the sounds of gunfire in the distance.  Looking up, he was shocked to see some kind of hold up occurring at a building down the street.

Gohan felt a stir of anger in his veins.  *They have it so good, and they don't even know!  Why are they doing this?*  he thought furiously.  

Gohan hesitated for a moment, but he knew he had to do it.  He never changed into a Super Saiyan if he could help it.  It always flooded him with bad memories, and left an unpleasant taste in his mouth for days afterward.  He had diligently continued his training in the afterlife, and now with Vegeta, but those were the only times he allowed himself to ascend.  But now, with the choice of either attacking in his normal form, and ruining his chances of remaining unnoticed, or changing, Gohan powered up to Super Saiyan.

It was a quick fight, barely anything for a Super Saiyan—it was over in seconds, and he was back to normal, barely affected by the unpleasant taste of old memories.  Turning to leave, Gohan ran smack dab into a girl.  A very demanding girl.  She was pretty in an odd sort of way, but she was also pushy, demanding, and much too overbearing for his liking.  She demanded an explanation, and Gohan simply shrugged and claimed innocence.  It was better that way.

_______________

"His name is Son Gohan, and I'd like you to make him feel welcome, class," the teacher finished his introduction.

Gohan blushed hotly.  Did they have to include that he'd gotten perfect scores on his exams?  The things had been ridiculously easy.  But perhaps this, along with the clothes his mother had provided him, would help the image he was trying to cultivate.  Shy, innocent—though he was nothing of the sort.

A cheerful blonde at the top of the classroom waved a hand to indicate there was a seat free.  "Hi my name's Erasa!  And guess who this is?"  Erasa pointed to someone beside her—it was—the girl from the bank!  The pushy one.  The one who reminded him of his mom.  "She's the daughter of the one and only!"

Gohan was confused, "Uh, what?"

Erasa giggled, "Oh, come on, you know who I mean, the man who defeated Cell!  The great Hercule Satan, silly!"

Gohan blinked in shock.  It was the response Erasa seemed to have been looking for, because she giggled again, but Gohan's shock was for an entirely different reason.  Satan?  Satan?  He vaguely recalled a comical fellow with a white cape and a bushy afro from the Cell games.  Why hadn't anyone mentioned to him that the man had taken credit for defeating Cell?

Gohan blushed, and absently made some appropriate comments as Videl was introduced.  Did they really think he'd mind?  He didn't want the credit for defeating Cell—he certainly didn't deserve it.  Stacked against everything else he'd done, Cell was a tiny victory, a small bit of goodness—and even that goodness was tainted by anger.  Was that what they feared?  His anger?  Gohan felt the shame burning low and deep in the pit of his stomach.  Had they been—afraid of what he might do?  Was that why they hadn't told him?

He was torn from his musing as Erasa rambled cheerfully on about the 'gold fighter' and Videl suspiciously inquired about his clothes.

Gohan, still a bit preoccupied, did his best to dissuade them.  The long sleeved shirt that hid his scars so well also hid his well developed muscles.  

Through the long, slow lecture, Gohan's mind wrestled with his new problem.  Finally, with a sigh, he resolved to go see Bulma for some help.  Her genius mind should be able to devise a solution to his problem.

Gohan knew that he wouldn't be able to resist helping out when he saw people in trouble—he didn't want to resist.  He also knew, that he couldn't handle turning Super Saiyan for the least little thing.  It haunted him too much.  A nagging corner of his mind scampered fearfully over the question he had repressed.  Why hadn't they told him about Mr. Satan?  

***Ok, kind of a weird fear, but come on, wouldn't YOU be afraid that people would fear you?  I would…R&R PLEASE!***


	20. He Knew Her Pain

Disclaimer—I don't own DB/Z/GT

A/N—Don't glare at me like that!  Everything I put in this chapter was NECESSARY!  ::prepares for flames::  Two chapters in one day!  Aren't you proud of me?

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Gohan touched down lightly on the lawn of Capsule Corporation.  The day had been long, and rumors had flown wildly about the Gold Fighter.

Putting a tired hand to his head, Gohan walked up and knocked on the Brief's front door.  It was opened a second later by a purple haired child who squealed and threw himself at Gohan he second he saw him.

"Whoa!  Hey there Trunks," Gohan said, tossing the laughing child into the air, "Is your mom around, kiddo?"

Trunks was a bit let down that Gohan wasn't here to play with him, but he nodded and led the way to Bulma's lab anyway.  Anything for Gohan.

Bulma looked up, startled, as Trunks and Gohan walked into the room.  She studied the dark haired boy before her, then sent Trunks off to get them some refreshments.  "So, Gohan, what brings you here today?"

Gohan looked at his feet and blushed as the question that had been on his mind all day popped out of his mouth, "Why didn't you tell me that Hercule Satan was the one who took credit for the Cell Games?  I mean," Gohan hesitated, "Were you afraid of what I'd do or something?"

Bulma saw the mortified half-fearful look on the teenager's face and rushed to reassure him, "No!  Oh, no Gohan, that's not it at all!  I thought that Chi-Chi would tell you, but—now that I think of it, she might not know…"

Gohan's eyes grew confused, "What do you mean?  Why wouldn't she know?"

Bulma's eyes grew soft with sympathy as she replied, "Well, Chi-Chi was very—out of it after you….died.  She wouldn't talk to anyone, she wouldn't eat—she only managed to pull herself together when she found out that she was pregnant with Goten.  She—took it all very hard.  I think that if it wasn't for Goten…" Bulma trailed off as she saw the look of horror and self-blame growing in Gohan's eyes.  "Now don't you dare young man!"  Gohan's head jerked up, "Don't you dare blame yourself for that, I won't let you!"

Gohan blinked and took a step back at Bulma's vehement tone, then ventured a small, tremulous smile.  He could certainly see why Bulma and Vegeta had ended up together.  "Actually," Gohan started over, "That wasn't what I came here to ask you about."  

Gohan explained about his day, and his need for a disguise.  Bulma looked at him wordlessly for a moment, then nodded, and smiled.  "Like father, like son," she said with grin as she pushed him out of the room, "Go play with Trunks or something.  I'll cook you up something good!"

Gohan blushed at the compliment as she compared him to his father, and let himself be pushed.  After an hour playing with the exuberant Trunks, Gohan felt like he'd been the recipient of a 'training' session with Zarbon.  Bruised and singed, he pulled himself into Bulma's lab and flopped down on a convenient couch.  "Urgh," he replied intelligently to Bulma's questioning look.

Bulma stifled a giggle at the beaten teenager on her couch.  Trunks sure had done a number on him!  The smirking scientist proudly pulled out a watch like device and thrust it at Gohan as Trunks bounced into the room to peer at the weary Gohan curiously.  "Go ahead, try it on!  I designed it myself," she grinned smugly. 

Gohan shyly took the watch from her outstretched hand and put it onto his wrist.  Listening to her explanation, he pressed the little red button, and turned to the mirror.  He saw himself—in a black, spandex under-suit, with a baggy green neon top, and a flamboyant red cape.  On his head, he wore what looked to be an orange-ish motorcycle helmet with two antennae protruding out the top.  In short, he looked ridiculous.

Gohan turned back to Bulma, not really sure what to say, "Uhh, thanks?"  Gohan quickly nudged Trunks in the ribs to keep the boy from laughing.  Bulma was so proud of her creation—he just couldn't tell her what he really thought.

Well, at least it was a disguise.  No one would expect quiet Son Gohan to show up in such a flashy (tacky) outfit.  Vegeta, attracted perhaps, by the fact that his son was rolling around on the floor, convulsed with laughter, walked into the lab.  Seeing Gohan standing there in his suit, Vegeta quirked an eyebrow ironically.  Suddenly, Gohan got an idea.  Swinging into a complicated routine of cheesy maneuvers that only Vegeta would recognize, Gohan grinned questioningly at the Saiyan Prince.

Vegeta was silent for a moment, then replied in an amused tone, "The Ginyu Force would roll over in their graves if they saw that."

Gohan smirked, "I know."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow, but nodded.  If the boy wanted to mock the Ginyu Force by performing their elite moves while in that ridiculous costume, Vegeta wasn't going to stop him.  First, the Ginyu Force deserved the mockery.  Second, Vegeta found it sort of funny—not much amused the Saiyan Prince, and he certainly wasn't going to chase away those things that did.  But there was no way he was going to let the boy get away with even a small amount of self-deception.  He knew why Gohan mocked the Ginyu force.  Vegeta glared significantly at Gohan and saw the boy flush under his gaze.  Good.  Mocking the morons that had caused him pain in the past was one thing, deceiving himself as to the source of that mockery was another.  Vegeta grabbed Trunks by one arm and pulled him out of the room and towards the gravity room to train.

Gohan gazed angrily after Vegeta.  Why did he have to have that knowing look?  Why couldn't he just let well enough alone?  Gohan made his hasty goodbyes to Bulma, and started off towards home, Vegeta's knowing eyes slamming through his head.  Far below on the city streets, Gohan faintly heard the sounds of a woman screaming.  Quickly, he pressed the button on his watch, transforming into the thus far unnamed Superhero.

Quickly descending, Gohan felt rage boiling beneath his skin as he saw the source of the screams.  It was a young woman in a fetid side alley.  She was being raped.  

The thoughts that he had been trying to suppress since his little 'conversation' with Vegeta surged to the surface.  Larger then life images of Zarbon, Jeice, Recoom swam relentlessly through his head.  It was just another form of torture—a form of pain, humiliation and shame.  Just another way of making him to bow to Frieza's will.  Nothing more.  It was disgusting, it was vile, it was painful and humiliating, but it was no worse than the beatings he had received, Gohan tried to convince himself.  

But if that were true, why were THOSE faces the ones that still haunted his dreams?

These thoughts stabbed through Gohan's skull as the girl's screams echoed painfully in his eardrums.  The screams hurt all the more because they were so familiar.  Setting down beside the monster that paraded in human form, Gohan mercilessly blasted the rapist into a pile of ashes.  Some people deserved to die.  Carefully, he knelt and pulled the shivering girl into his arms, cradling her gently as she tried to wince away.  Landing at a nearby hospital, Gohan silently turned the girl over to the hospital staff.  When asked his name, Gohan pushed aside his raging emotions and replied stiffly after a moment, 'Saiyan Man' as he turned and left the hospital.

Flying home, Gohan focused on controlling the anger that was swamping his thoughts.  The incident with the girl had disturbed him more than it should have.  He should be over it by now, but he wasn't.  He knew her pain.

_________________

The next day at school, Gohan heard rumors of a new superhero named, 'Saiyaman.'  He shrugged and returned to his studies.  It didn't really matter what they called him.  Gold Fighter, Saiyan Man, Saiyaman.  No matter the name, he would protect the citizens of Satan City.  His thoughts flashed back to the girl from the day before, and the pencil splintered unknowingly in his grasp as his classmates gasped in shock, and Videl looked on with suspicious eyes.  Sometimes help came too late.

***R&R Please!***

*Advertizing*--Alrighty!  For a change of pace, read "Temptation Waits" by Vegeta Goddess.  storyid: 736993  This is one of the most incredibly amusing fics I have ever read.  Oh, it hurts to read it it's so funny.  Vegeta and Bulma, stuck on a spaceship in the middle of nowhere, Vegeta's in heat, and he's SOOOO flirtatious, Bulma punishes his bad pickup lines by playing BARNEY over and over again…..Inevitably, Veggie's going insane—so what does he do?  Develop a secret friend of course!  Lucas, the incredibly good looking elf is here to help you Vegeta—or, ::glares suspiciously:: Does he just want to steal Bulma?!


	21. Storms

Disclaimer—Seeing as I'm not a male, and I'm not Japanese, it's highly doubtful that I own DB/Z/GT.  I am, however, seriously considering changing my name to Akira Toriyama….

A/N—I've seriously gotten caught up in this story again!  Anyone waiting for the next chapter to Getting a Clue, and the epilogue to Bring Your Father to School Day, sorry for the delay, they should be out soon!  It's all this story's fault!  It's forcing me to write it!

___________________

The years passed in relative peace, and Gohan found that he was happy, in spite of himself.  Trunks and Goten grew from little balls of mischief into, well, _bigger_ balls of mischief.  When Goten turned Super Saiyan for the first time at six years old, the same age as Gohan had, with none of the 'prompting' that he had received, Gohan couldn't have been prouder.

Despite everything, despite the nightmares, despite the flashbacks, despite the gnawing guilt that he still carried, Gohan found himself content.  Even school hadn't gone according to his plans—Gohan had friends.

Oh, sure, they weren't the greatest friends.  In fact, he didn't even know how they'd come to be his friends in the first place.  Erasa had been half in love with him, and Sharpener out of some twisted sense of jealousy had hung out with him too.  

As days turned to months, Erasa had reconciled her crush, and started dating Sharpener, and by that time, the blonde boy had become so used to hanging out and bugging Gohan, that he'd simply continued to do so out of habit.  

It was also by default that he'd gotten his third, and final friend, Videl.  Claiming friendship from childhood, Erasa was the only girl in the school that Videl could stand.  This made the despised Sharpener and the aloof Gohan her friends by default, as Erasa insisted on hanging out with them.  Gohan found it slightly ironic that the man Videl worked so hard to unmask every day sat right beside her in English class.

____________________

Videl gazed curiously at Gohan who was spacing out yet again.  The boy definitely had secrets.  Glancing at the front of the class, Videl stifled a giggle to see that old Mr. Mizuki was still asleep at his desk, though lunch break was long over.  

Mr. Mizuki was a favorite of everyone's—one of the few teachers who inspired passion in his students—who made class an enjoyable experience.  Although he was years over the set retirement age, he returned every semester, insisting that teaching was his greatest joy, and retirement was for old fogies, which he was definitely, not!  Sometimes his lunchtime naps tended to run over into class time, but no one really minded; he always awoke bright-eyed and ready to transport his students once again into the fascinating world of literature.

Videl looked once more at Gohan after the quick glance ascertained that Mr. Mazuki was still out like a light.  He really did intrigue her.  There was something so—pained in him.  Something that made her want to drop her hostile guard and sooth that hurt.  

Videl shook her head in disgruntlement.  What was it about him that made her feel such things?  Videl had been through her fair share of tragedies—some would even say MORE than her fair share.  Despite the money, the rich house, the fame—or perhaps because of them, Videl could never escape the nagging pain in her heart.  Perhaps it was loneliness—she didn't know any other name for it, but it had started when her mother had died in a car accident when she was five—that was the first tear in her fabric.  The second came shortly after, when her father, to escape the pain of his wife's death, had sought comfort in the arms of other women.  After his defeat of Cell, it had grown even worse—the women had multiplied, and those claiming 'friendship' to the Satan's had steadily increased in number—but not one of them liked her for a person.  Not one of them would have looked twice at her had she not been Hercule Satan's daughter.  And so Videl was lonely—she'd gotten used to it—well, maybe not used to it, but she had managed to become resigned to it, submerging herself in training, school, and police work—making a name of her own, determined to escape her father's shadow.  And then she had met HIM.  Son Gohan.  

At first she had flinched to meet him, expecting him to fawn and fall over her feet like they all did—but he hadn't.  That alone had intrigued her.  And then there was that look in his eyes that one time—for a brief moment, he had let his guard down.  Perhaps it had just been the light—an effect of the noonday sun that made his soul appear to be a ragged, tattered thing, barely held together by strands spider of silk.  His eyes had reflected such pain in that bare instant, only to have it whisked away and replaced with cheerful nonchalance in the next.  What could cause that depth of hurt in a human being?  What horrific tragedy could leave someone so—shredded?  She had seen it in him, whether he willed it or no.  

Perhaps kindred in pain, their eyes had sought each other out, and Videl knew—despite his façade, that Son Gohan was a person of many secrets.  Secrets so dark, so INTENSE, that Videl wasn't sure she wanted to delve that deep—did she really want to know what could cause those dark orbs to hold such haunting depths?

Videl jerked involuntarily as Gohan's eyes met hers, and turned quickly away, pretending to check the time on the large clock over his right shoulder.  She blinked through her embarrassment as she noticed the time that the black hands spelled out.  12:20—class should have started twenty minutes ago!  

Gohan, who watched Videl flush with no little confusion, followed her gaze to the clock, then to the desk where Mr. Mizuki still sat, head in his arms.  Immediately Gohan knew.  He'd seen the look enough times before—he was just surprised that he hadn't noticed the moment he'd entered the classroom.

Standing, Gohan walked calmly down the steps, and towards the still form of the teacher, ignoring the naughty titters of his classmates who thought he intended on waking him.  

Bending down, Gohan touched his fingers to the old man's neck, feeling the clamminess of his already cooling skin.  There was no pulse.

Looking up into the suddenly silent classroom, Gohan announced calmly, "He's dead.  Someone should probably go and get the principal."

Videl stared in shock at the collected boy before her, who so calmly announced death, as if the two were old acquaintances.  Through the horror filled silence, a blue-haired girl in the front row let out an anguished sob, which sent the class into a flurry of activity as the stillness was broken.  

Several students ran gasping and choking from the class in search of a bathroom, while others burst into tears.  From her view from the top of the room, Videl saw a faint look of puzzlement cross Gohan's features as he took in the extreme reaction of his fellow classmates.  Angrily she shouted down to the seemingly heartless boy before her, "They're upset, Gohan!  What are you, a monster?!  Mr. Mazuki was the nicest guy in the world, and now he's dead, and you don't even _care!_"  Videl spun quickly around, her back to him, so he couldn't see the tears that were growing in her eyes.  *Mr. Mazuki….*

____________________

"**_What are you, a monster?!_"** The words echoed in Gohan's mind as he gazed dumbstruck at Videl's back.  Of course he was sorry to see the old man go, he'd been a good teacher, one he could actually identify with.  His class was one of the few he could actually remain _awake_ through!  

Gohan looked around at the rest of his classmates, who seemed stuck somewhere between sickness and tears.  It was only slowly that the realization came to Gohan, that it was possible that these sheltered children had never seen death before—had never shaken his hand, or smacked away the bony fingers as he reached for some prize.  All of the sudden, Gohan felt old.  His burdens seemed to stack higher than his years would allow, bowing his back and hunching him over.  

**_"What are you, a monster?"_** Those words hurt him more than he'd even let on.  Perhaps if Videl had known that that was exactly what he'd thought himself to be for so many years, and even now, to an extent, she wouldn't have said it.  But she didn't know. Gohan felt confusion and anger battle with guilt—he wanted to shout up to her that Mr. Mazuki had lived a good life—that he'd loved every minute of every day, and had died doing what he loved best.  He wanted to tell her that death wasn't so bad—in fact, many times, living could be worse—but he didn't.  Her accusations rang too true.  He had reconciled himself to his past—he _wasn't_ a monster, but, from the reactions of his classmates, he knew he wasn't like them, either.  Suddenly, Gohan yearned for that innocence that had been ripped away in so many ways at the tender age of four.  He yearned for a time when death was the greatest horror, and even old age taking a life was a cause for tears.  He had lost too much.  He had no more tears left to shed, not a shred of his soul left undefiled.  With one glance back at Videl, Gohan silently left the room, and went to summon the principal.

__________________

Gohan was shocked at the reaction to Mr. Mazuki's death.  He had thought that, perhaps, the adults would be calmer and more reasonable in dealing with the old man's death, but apparently he was universally beloved.

When he had informed the principal, the older woman had broken down in tears at the news, and had shakily dialed the paramedics from her office phone.  School had been cancelled for the rest of the day after the body had been taken away, and had remained out the next, in Mr. Mazuki's honor and due to the fact that all of his students had been expressly invited to attend the funeral in the old man's Will.

Standing in a dark suit, along with his fellow classmates, Gohan allowed his mind to drift as he gazed at the clouds that bunched over the somber crowd.  His thoughts were jerked back to the proceedings as Mr. Mazuki's son took the podium and spoke of his father with such love and longing, that Gohan was involuntarily reminded of his own father.  And how much he missed him.  Gohan listened intently as the man ran down, and came to the end of his speech.

The younger Mr. Mazuki smiled gently at the gathered crowd and finished with the lines of his father's favorite poem, the poem that he had requested be read at his funeral.

"This is the way the world ends, this is the way the world ends, this is the way the world ends, not with a bang, but a whimper."—T.S. Elliot (The Hollow Men)

Not with a bang, but a whimper.  Not with a bang, a whimper.  Not with a bang—**_not with a bang!  _**He'd ended too many worlds with a bang.  Far too many deprived of the chance to live fully and love the world as this old man had.  Far too many lives cut short, destinies unfulfilled…

Gohan felt the hot, salty tears drip carelessly down his cheeks, but he refused to wipe them away.  With a fleeting glance toward the heavens, Gohan sent a small prayer with Mr. Mazuki, asking that he say hello to his father for him when he got there.  

A soft pitter-patter prompted the raising of umbrellas and a scurry of movement as the mourners sought shelter from the encroaching storm.  Silent and alone, Gohan stood at the edge of the grave, fresh churned earth going muddy at his feet.  A small tendril of hair soaked heavily into his eye.  Gohan was alone.

________________

A short distance away, Videl stood underneath a nearby tree, waiting for the storm to abate.  Although the tree provided shelter, her hair was growing damp, as small droplets escaped through the overhead canopy and sprinkled her lightly.

Curiously, she watched the silent boy at the graveside as he was soaked and buffeted by the pounding storm.  He didn't even seem to feel it.  Just before the rain had begun, Videl had noticed two suspiciously symmetrical streaks that ran down Gohan's cheeks.  When all of the others had retreated, he had just stood there, vacant and subdued.  Videl felt a small stir of guilt—she knew that her earlier reaction had been wrong.  Gohan did care—he cared deeply.  

Videl leaned back against the tree trunk, glad for the slight shelter that the overhead limbs provided.  More than slightly damp, and not getting any dryer, she silently studied the soaking boy who stood lost in thought at the edge of the muddy grave.  Alone with their thoughts, they awaited the end of the storm, together.

***Whew!  ::wipes brow:: It's always so hard to develop a new character!  I think I kept Videl in character here, but believe me, this chapter wasn't easy!  Please read and review—tell me what you think!***


	22. Past Meets Future

Disclaimer—::bandaging Gohan's broken arm while in the process of breaking another:: I don't own them…I just break them, then heal them, then maybe (if I'm feeling mean) break them again and send them on their way…

A/N—I'd like to thank everyone for their kind comments on the last chapter—it sure made all of my work on it worth it.  I'd also like to say that although I appreciate all of the suggestions in the reviews, I do already have most of this story planned out and I'm not likely to take them.  As you can see with my bringing Saiyaman in (although most of you hated him and wanted to kill him) I'm not easily swayed by reader opinion!  So, though I appreciate your speculations as to what's to come, don't be offended if they're not used.  Don't get me wrong, I love you all and thank you for reviewing!!!  ::passes out sad little injured Gohan clones for everyone to take care of—tail optional::

***Special thanks to Burenda for her lessons on '10 Simple, But Effective Ways to be Horrifying in Fanfiction.'***

___________________

It was calm and cold outside.  The crisp scent of a late spring frost floated under the windowpanes, and infiltrated the room.  Upon entering, the clean freshness was met with a sweat tossed dampness that reeked of nightmares.

On a small pallet in the middle of the room, the lone occupant tossed and turned, murmuring to himself, giving life to the odor.

Luckily, this was one of the few nights that little Goten hadn't chosen to climb into bed and cuddle with his brother.  Had the small boy been there, he would have been confused, and no little terrified at the anguished whimpers his big brother was emitting,

***Gohan's Dream***

He was running again.  He always ran in his dreams, running towards something, running away.  Unfortunately for Gohan, he didn't know that it was a dream.

It was dark.  The shadows were filled with creeping _things_ that would never quite come close enough for him to make out what they were.  He wasn't sure he _wanted_ to know.  Whatever else was out there, he knew that _they_ were.  He could hear the whispers as their voices grated up and down his spine.  His heart thudded in his chest with the rapid jangling patter of a tambourine and his breath came in ragged gasps as he envisioned the horrors stalking him from the shadows.

The endless blackness seemed to ripple about him with a strange undulating kind of motion, and he was involuntarily reminded of the story of Jonah.  Perhaps this was what it would feel like to be trapped inside of a whale.  The hot crushing air closing in from all sides, the blackness that twisted and wrapped around you until you were sure you were going to suffocate—there was no escape.  

Vaguely, in the distance, a glimmer of hope sparked.  There was a faint light it seemed, in the formerly infinite darkness.  Struggling through the sticky heat, Gohan felt like his lungs were on fire.  On the edge of his consciousness, he could still hear those hated whispers, growing louder by the moment, as if they were gaining on him.  Fear surged like liquid fire through his veins, causing the hair on his arms to stand straight in protest, adrenaline pounded hot through his body, giving him the strength to continue. He kept on running.  Towards the light—towards salvation.

From the corners of his eyes, he could see flitting figures, and the hissing of the whispers was coming clear…

_"Pretty little monkey boy…"  _The words echoed, the crushing, suffocating walls reflecting them.  His mind cowered back from the whispers as they pounded into his ears over and over again, _"…monkey boy…monkey boy…"   _

Desperate to get away from the mocking echoes, Gohan stumbled, then tripped.  Struggling heavily to his feet, he noticed that his perspective was different.  Even in the awful blackness, he could tell that something was wrong—he was somehow smaller.  

A tickling flicker made itself known at Gohan's right ankle.  Gasping, he spun quickly around, nerves afire, ready to strike at whatever threatened him.   Reaching out he grasped—his tail?  Terror flooded his mind, as the whispers resolved into well-known voices.  Panting, the heavy air rushed in and out of his lungs with a sticky liquid feeling.  _No…_ Gohan clutched his tail fearfully and slowly backed away—towards the light.

Gohan spun around, fleeing desperately, stumbling feet seeking purchase on the black fathomless ground.  A looming phantasm flew towards the teen-turned-child from out of the darkness.  Zarbon's mocking face filled his eyes as the headless apparition sped at him from the side, and barely missed slamming into him, flooding the boy with alternating surges of terror and rage, causing his ki to flicker wildly.

_"Monkey boy, monkey boy…"_ The face taunted as it flew past.

Gohan kept on running, the heavy pounding of his heart replacing the mocking taunts in his ears.  It was hopeless…he knew he couldn't defeat them.  He was helpless…just a kid, and they were so much stronger….they were always stronger…

Flickering visions of past tortures haunted his vision as he to labored desperately to avoid it happening again.  Not again.  They were coming for him…the very thought of their touch sent shivers of disgust running up and down his spine, causing his tail to cling fearfully to his waist.  The cold acidic taste of terror crept into his throat as the cawing whispers assaulted his ears.

_"What, don't want us to get hold of your tail, monkey boy?"_ Recoom's dull voice spat from the blackness, _"Even the Prince of the monkeys had to give it up when you had his tail…"_

Raucous, mocking laughter resounded from all sides.

_"Wanna catch a monkey, just grab his tail!  Come on monkey boy,"_ Jeice's red and white head whizzed past him, _"Let's have some fun!"_

The light he had been running towards approached suddenly seeming to rush up and engulf him, chasing his ghastly, headless tormentors back into the hellish pit they had come from.

Gohan found himself standing in the midst of a field.  It looked to be some time in mid-spring.  Daisies dotted the knee-high grass, giving the scene a fresh, pastoral look.

Gohan's hands clenched, and he realized that he was no longer grasping his tail.  Reaching around, he felt, to his relief, that it was gone once again, and from his bent position he noticed that he was no longer a child.  Curiously, the once again teenaged Gohan looked around.  Across the field, in a long white dress, peaceful and serene, there was a girl picking flowers.  

As if she heard his thoughts, the girl looked up, smiled, and began slowly pacing towards him, daisies held before her like a bridal bouquet.  As she drew closer, Gohan thought that there was something familiar about her…she was beautiful…but that wasn't it….she was….VIDEL!

Videl smiled at the sudden look of recognition on his face, and continued to pace closer.  Gohan couldn't help but gulp nervously, his heart pounding for an entirely different reason than it had moments before…he'd never noticed it before, but…when she smiled, she was so…beautiful…

As Videl came to a stop in front of him, Gohan blushed, but remained in place, as she leaned seductively forward to whisper into his ear…._"What are you, a monster?"_  The voice was harsh, and cold, filled with choking contempt, nothing like what he'd expected.

Gohan's face went from flushed to white as a sheet and his body broke out in a cold sweat.  He stared, dazed, at the girl before him, as the wind began to pick up, sweeping in ominous gray clouds to blot the sun from the once cheerful sky.

Looking at the disgusted sneer, filled with anger and hatred, that had replaced Videl's formerly joyful expression, Gohan stuttered, "W-what?"  He watched in horror as tears surged into her pale blue eyes and his heart filled with a cold, sluggish anguish that tore greedily at his soul, as if to devour it. 

The wind ravaged her long white dress, tattering it at the bottom, and a cold hail-filled rain began falling, smashing into the two, unnoticed.  The bouquet of daisies Videl held in her hands was buffeted and ripped, lazy petals hurled to the ground, leaving barren, naked stalks in the girl's white grip.  Videl didn't answer.

Gohan looked down in horror at the fallen petals—somehow, the sight of them, limp and lifeless, lying inert, filled him with horror.  He watched in terror-filled fascination as the petals began to wriggle, taking on a life of their own.  It was only when they started crawling towards him, making their way, pulsating, up his legs, that Gohan recognized them for what they were…maggots.

Choking, Gohan staggered back, struggling in vain to wipe the disgusting creatures from his limbs as they swarmed up, consuming him.  There were millions of them…too many to count.  All the while, Videl stood and watched, a look of righteousness on her face.  He could read it in her eyes—she saw this as justice.

"NO!" Gohan tried to say, as the quivering mass surged past his neck.  He wanted desperately to explain it to her—explain it all—he _wasn't_ a monster.  He couldn't stand the cold hatred that burned for him in her eyes.  As he opened his mouth, the maggots surged inward, cutting off his breath, and his explanation.  The last thing he saw as they covered his eyes was Videl's face.  She was smiling.

***End Dream Sequence***

Gohan surged to life, struggling against the blankets that held his trembling form to the bed.  Still shaking slightly, he wiped his sweat-covered face with one trembling white hand.  

It had been a dream…he knew what the first part was about, but…there had never been a light in that darkness before—where had that come from?  And the second part…

Gohan repressed a shudder at the remembrance of the maggots, surging past his teeth and into his lungs, stealing his breath.  

And what of Videl?  Why had she been there, and why was it so important that she understand?  Why had the anger and hatred in her eyes burned his heart like a brand?

Shaking his head, Gohan pushed the sweat soaked hair out of his face, and clicked on the light at his desk.  Taking out a fresh sheet of paper, he sat and stared, trying to think of something to write.  Anything to chase away the nightmares…

_________________

In the dimly lit kitchen, Chi-Chi looked up from the cup of tea she was making, to see a sliver of light appear beneath Gohan's door.

Biting her lip, she bobbed the teabag up and down in a nervous gesture.  This was the third night in a row.  The first night, she hadn't been sure, but when he'd appeared drawn and haggard at the breakfast table, suspicion had solidified into certainty.

Why hadn't he told her?  Told her about the nightmares?  She knew that he still had flashbacks, as she'd been witness to a few, but somehow, the nightmares had completely slipped her mind.

It wasn't always easy for him—being back—she knew that.  Slowly swirling her tea, Chi-Chi paced quietly down the hall and into her empty bedroom.  She missed Goku.  Chi-Chi knew she'd never get over the pain of his loss, no matter what joys appeared and tried to dislodge that hurt.  

Settling down on the right side of the bed where she still slept, even after seven long years leaving Goku his side by habit, Chi-Chi sighed.  

No matter what, she'd never get over her pain.  When her husband had died for the last time her heart had broken, and she went on, a hollow shell, she lived only for her children.  Chi-Chi would never recover.  Her mothers-heart quivered at the question that pounded in her mind.  Was Gohan destined to suffer the same fate?

***A bit shorter than the last few, but still longer than most!  R&R Please!***

*Advertizing*-Read the Generations series by Brandon B—Trust me, you won't regret it.


	23. Questions?

Ok, on to questions!

1) Someone asked me why this fic is R rated.  Quite simple in my opinion.  There may not be lots of sex, or too much cussing, but it DOES deal with mature subject matter.  Torture, child abuse, rape, suicide, murder etc.  Some flashbacks are described pretty explicitly.  I think this deserves an R rating.

2) Someone asked why Videl didn't find out Gohan's secret a long time ago.  They point out that she's always suspected.  Which is true.  First you have to recognize that this Gohan is different from the old one—definitely more guarded.  Nevertheless Videl DID suspect he was Saiyaman.  The reason for her shock in finding out was more the 'Gohan's a murderer' part than the 'Gohan's Saiyaman part.'  Remember also, that Videl didn't find out for sure until Gohan almost gave it away in the episode with the little dinosaur.  Our Videl is caught between feeling victorious, and feeling upset for that reason—she's glad she's finally had her suspicions confirmed, but in that confirmation, she finds out something that makes her fear for her friend.  

3) Someone commented, "Vegeta should know what to do. Hadn't he been through what Gohan had gone through under Frieza?"  The answer is: yes.  Unfortunately, that would require Vegeta opening up more about his own past, which he did if you read this chapter.  It's not that Vegeta didn't KNOW what to do.  It's that he ABSOLUTELY DID NOT want to handle the emotional repercussions of the situation.

Now a few comments to my reviewers that I couldn't resist!

Rez-  I'll make you love Gohan yet!  I swear I will!

Chris Marker-  Yet again I fall over dead at praise.  Are you trying to kill me?  But thank you!  In all honesty, it really helps me gets stuff out quicker when I know my work is appreciated *grin*

Leaf Zelindor-Yup!  But she didn't know, so she was free to torment him!  (At my direction of course!)

DemonDancing- NYAH!  I didn't want him to have a flashback before now =P hehe.

SaiyaSith- More surprises to come!

Bulmas Goku- YES! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Z- You know, you're one of my constant reviewers, and such a short name, too!  Hehe, thanks for reviewing, as always!

Professor Authordude- Did I ever tell you I loved your name?  Well I do.  Thanks for being such a constant reviewer!

Vsd2oc- You always have the most insightful reviews—thank you for that!  The questions you ask always make me think!

Midnight Shadow- *blush* I think I'm getting a case of Vegeta-itis…

Burenda- You're always one of the first to review a new chapter—THANK YOU!  But…you haven't reviewed The Perfect Plan yet….*glares* Hmm…perhaps Brenda could use a little torturing as well….

EVERYONE ELSE!  My fingers are getting tired, or I'd write each of you, but I'd like to say THANKS from the bottom of my heart.  Your support, encouragement, badgering, and even your criticism inspire me to try and do better!  Feel free to criticize away, as long as it's constructive!


	24. Secrets Revealed

Disclaimer--::somewhat charred and burnt from the flaming of the 500 review special:: I don't…(choke, gasp, hack) own DB/Z/GT

A/N--::rifles through the comments she got on the 500 review special::… "That was so PATHETIC!"…. "Have you gone MAD?!" … "Ok, that was a weird chapter…" … "WTF?!" *sweatdrop* Ok…apparently I wasn't too clear.  Did you read the author's notes?  The review special had ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do with the story.  As some of you may know, I'm primarily a humor writer, and I guess traveling the dark paths of angst was just too much for me…I SNAPPED!  But seriously.  It was only meant to be a completely unconnected humor insert.  I'm sorry if you were confused, offended, confused, disgusted, confused….did I mention confused?  The review special is being removed to prevent anymore…confusion.  ::licks wounded ego:: Ok.  Now that that's settled, let's just continue with the story.

____________________

Gohan snoozed dreamlessly at his desk, entirely oblivious to the fact that the sun had risen, and he was going to be late.

Half crumpled in his fist was the sheet of paper he had taken out the night before.

The ink was smeared in several places, but amidst the doodles, Gohan had tried to analyze his dream—with little success.

Dream 

_First part—obvious, except the light.  Light represents, hope?  Freedom?  _

_Who or what is the light?_

_Second part—flowers=spring.  New birth—perhaps my new life?  New relationships?  Why was Videl there?_

_Flowers.  Flowers represent…freshness, hope, life?  _

_Storm, obviously=trouble.  Destroys flowers.  _

_Maggots are my past?  People I've killed?  _

_The storm, the maggots—are they my past returning to haunt me?  To destroy my new 'spring?'_

_But still…why Videl?  Why HER and not someone else?_

_GET IT TOGETHER GOHAN!_

There Gohan's thoughts broke off, and the page was covered with sketches.  Unconsciously the sleeping teen tightened his grip around the sheet of paper, and pulled it closer, mumbling to himself.

____________________

Chi-Chi peeked in Gohan's room to see him asleep at his desk.  Normally, she'd be furious that he was going to be late for school, but knowing of his nightmares the night before, she only regretted that she had to wake him.

"Gohan…" Chi-Chi whispered.

Gohan blearily creaked open his eyes to be greeted with the early morning sun shining bright through his window.  Just as he was about to lay his head back down, the angle of the sun registed.

Gohan's eyes slammed open and he shot to his feet.  "Oh no!  I'm going to be late for school!"

Shooting past his startled mother, Gohan zipped quickly into the kitchen for a bite to eat.  Shoving the paper he still held into his back pocket, Gohan gulped down half a glass of orange juice, grabbed a half a dozen pieces of toast from the plate stacked high on the table, and shot out the door with a quick yell of 'goodbye' over his shoulder.

Chi-Chi still stood in Gohan's bedroom, somewhat startled at her son's sudden whirl of activity.  With a little smile, she exited the room, closing the door behind her.  Whatever he had dreamed, he certainly wasn't letting it get to him.  Gohan was a fighter.

_____________________

Gohan flew high above the town, cursing himself for falling asleep.  He couldn't believe it.  Late _again!_  His frequent stop-overs as Saiyaman had been taking a toll on his attendance, and he'd long since gotten a reputation as a delinquent.  

He'd thought his mother would be furious, but she hadn't said a thing to him when the school had called yet again the night before.  Maybe she was just in a good mood.  Gohan was determined to keep her in that good mood by getting to school on time today.

An angry yell from the streets below, however, interrupted these plans.  There stood Videl, in the midst of an angry group of thugs.  She dove and whirled in a blur of punches that would be barely visible to the human eye, and from the yelps and groans of her attackers, Gohan could tell that she had everything under control.  Well, almost everything.  Videl didn't seem to see the man standing at the corner of the building, waiting for his buddies to clear out so he could get in a shot.  She didn't see _him_, and she didn't see his _gun_.

With a mental apology that he was once again going to be tardy, Gohan swooped down and lightly tapped the gunman on the back of the head, causing him to fall unconcious, to the ground.  

Remembering his dream from the night before, Gohan got more pleasure than usual from performing his corny moves.  With a sudden burst of inspiration, he finished with a line that would have made the Ginyu force kill him, or die trying, had they heard it accompanying their ultra-elite poses, "I am the champion of Love and Justice—THE GREAT SAIYAMAN!"

Standing in the midst of a pile of bodies, Videl shook her head, looking at the clown of a superhero before her.  Champion of Love and Justice?  Wasn't that from a cartoon?

As Gohan felt Videl's eyes settle on him, his somewhat ironic joy was swept away and replaced with confusion, and no little apprehension.  The look in her eyes seemed to mirror the disgust that the Videl in his dream had displayed.

Taking a startled step backwards, Gohan leapt into the sky, shaking his head, trying to displace the haunting dual vision of Videl staring at him with such distaste.

What was it with that girl?  Why did she matter so much?

____________________

Videl watched in helpless anger as Saiyaman wordlessly took to the skies, and flew off to some unknown destination.

As he blasted off, something fluttered away from him, and fell to the ground, with a lazy, arcing motion.  

Cautiously, Videl stepped forward, her heart beating in her chest.  This was her chance—maybe this was a clue as to who Saiyaman really was!

Stooping down, she picked up the page of plain white paper, and studied the handwriting.  It was…familiar.  Carefully she made her way down the page, scrutinizing it for the tiniest detail.  

It was about a dream—Saiyaman's dream?  She almost jumped in shock as she saw her own name inscribed on the sheet.  He dreamt about her?

Most of the sheet was a scrambled mish-mash—it was obvious that the author had just been making notes to himself.

One sentence stopped Videl cold_.  'People I've killed?'_  Had Saiyaman meant that literally?  Videl had always been somewhat suspicious of him, but after two long years of fighting crime side by side, they'd come to a sort of half-wary understanding.  She couldn't believe it—was Saiyaman really a murderer?

Scanning down, Videl felt shock rush through her body, and her fingers went limp, the liberated page floating noislessly to her feet.

It was only as she had reached the last line that she had recognized the compact meticulous handwriting of the author.  It was only when he had written his own name, did she recognize it from two years of studying and passing notes.

_'GET IT TOGETHER GOHAN!'_

It had finally clicked.  Gohan was Saiyaman.

***Sorry this is short.  I'm feeling somewhat depressive and whiny about all those bad reviews…more soon, I promise.***


	25. Videl's Question

Disclaimer--::walks up to a big concrete building that reads 'Funimation Headquarters.'::  ::pulls out keys and unlocks the door, rejoicing as Vegeta, Trunks and the others fly happily off into the distance:: YES!  You're FREE!  I don't own you, and neither does ANYBODY ELSE!  Anime characters of the world unite!  All you have to lose is your poor quality dubbing!!! *cackles insanely* 

A/N—Chris Marker—do you have any idea how long it took me to stop blushing after I read you review?  I don't think it's true—but nonetheless—thank you!  Thanks so much for all of the reviews!  And the emails too—if I haven't answered you yet, I'm just backlogged—I promise I will soon.  Oh, and, if anyone wants  to be on the mailing list for this story, just say so in your review and leave your email—I'm kind of absent minded, so if you've asked before and I haven't been emailing you—please leave it again ^_^*

_________________

Gohan walked silently into his first period classroom.  So complete was his distraction, that he never even noticed the slight stir of unease as he stepped into the room.  

It was the first day of school since Mr. Mazuki's funeral, and the somber crowd still had not forgotten the almost callous ease with which Gohan had announced the man's death.

Gohan stepped slowly up the stairs to his seat next to Sharpener and Erasa, mind transfixed by the problems of the night before: the dream that had almost seemed to solidify into reality that morning with the look in Videl's eyes.

"Gohan?  GOHAN!"  Gohan was jerked out of his reverie by the voice.  Looking up, he was greeted with concerned blue eyes.  "Are you alright?"

Gohan smiled.  "Yeah, I'm fine.  Thanks for asking, Erasa."

Erasa smiled back, the normal bubble gone from her eyes, face uncommonly sober.  But then again, they all were.

Gohan sat quietly as the first period teacher began the lesson, expounding on the virtues of Trigonometry.  After ten minutes struggling with her student's collective inattention, the professor gave up and assigned the gloomy class problems to work out instead.

Gohan looked up from his book as the door banged open.  In stalked Videl.  He was surprised to see her eyes dart intently around the room, only to come to a rest on him, filled with questions.

For several seconds, they stayed that way, until Gohan's gaze broke first.  A crawling shiver ran up his spine.  For some reason, he knew that Videl's questioning eyes held only heartache in their answers.

He studiously ignored the girl as she handed the teacher her tardy pass and started up the stairs to her seat beside him.  

Sitting down, Videl couldn't help but stare at Gohan as he edgily avoided her gaze.  

His black hair stood wild, untamable locks adding to the boyish charm of his face.  He was focused intently on the problems before him, seemingly oblivious to anything else besides his trigonometry assignment.

Part of Videl wanted to reach out and grab that wild hair—force his eyes to meet her own.  She had been chasing down the secret identity of Saiyaman for years, and she wanted to tell him—she knew.  She wanted to revel in the competitive flush of victory she had thought she would feel.  She had won.  But there was no feeling of accomplishment.

It was a fluke—a random twist of fate.  Skill had not won her his identity—chance had.  And that very same chance had provided her with a dilemma.  What had those other words on that paper meant?  Looking at the pale boy beside her, only the slight flush of his cheeks giving evidence that he felt her stare, she didn't know what to think.  

Was it possible that he was really a murderer?  That's what it was after all—'killing,' ha—that was just a cowardly euphemism employed by those who couldn't put up with the shame of their choices.

Videl was conflicted.  Stuck between the part that wanted to claim triumph and the part that wanted to reach out and shake the boy—demand he tell her it wasn't true.  She wanted him to say it just was one of the slightly sick, twisted little power games that adolescent boys sometimes played, trying to prove their might by claims of violence.  But there was a third part that struggled for dominance as well.  The part that had seen the pain in Son Gohan's eyes and had reacted to it.  The part that had become friends with the silent boy over the last few years.  That part knew that Gohan would never play such games.  That part feared his answers—feared _for_ him.

With a uncharacteristic hesitation, Videl withdrew Gohan's dream analysis—the sheet of paper that Saiyaman had dropped earlier that morning.  In a clear space at the top, she inscribed a short sentence, then folded the paper in half, and wordlessly passed it to Gohan.

______________

Gohan jerked at the paper that was thrust into his notebook.  Giving Videl a wary glance, he cautiously unfolded the sheet.  His mind was swamped with confused dread as he saw that it was his dream analysis.  At the top of the sheet, in Videl's messy scrawl were the words:

_'You dropped this, Saiyaman.  We need to talk.'—Videl._

Videl saw Gohan's face drain of blood as he read what she had written.  He looked up, and she nodded.  She felt none of the triumph she had anticipated.  Just a dreadful sort of urgency that he tell her it wasn't true.

She watched carefully as Gohan looked from her, to the note then back again.  Folding the sheet in half, he stuck it in his pocket and nodded minutely.  

Videl sat back, satisfied.  Soon enough, the truth would be revealed.

______________

Gohan looked helplessly at the girl before him.  She wanted answers to questions that he had barely answered himself.  What was he to do?

The school day had been long and tedious, but nevertheless, Gohan had prayed that it would never end.  Unfortunately, time had not chosen to hold still for him, and that was how he had found himself here on the roof of the school, confronted with questions he did _not want to answer._

"It's not true, is it?  I mean, I know you're new, and I haven't known you forever like I have Sharpener and Erasa, but it's just not possible, is it Gohan?"  Videl's voice was quiet—almost pleading.  Gohan was taken aback; not by the question, but by the tone.  In the more than two years that he had known her, Gohan had never heard Videl plead with anyone.

He couldn't answer.  What was he to say?  For some reason, inexplicable to even him, he almost feared Videl.  Perhaps it was the feelings that he seemed to have for her—the experiences of his early childhood had twisted sex and love into something more fearful than a beating.

He had had a dream or two about Videl that _hadn't included flowers and swarming maggots—dreams that had started out nice, but had in the end, terrified him at least as much._

Videl's touch, which had always started out gentle, had inevitably turned brutal.  The brutality he could handle—he'd endured it before—but that _she was the source of that brutality—that struck him to his core, and the worst part was, he didn't know why.  _

______________

Anger began to stir in Videl's chest as she watched Gohan sit silent, eyes averted, ignoring her questions.  Why couldn't he just tell her it wasn't true?  She'd believe him, and they'd move on—maybe she'd blackmail him into teaching her how to fly or something—she'd always wanted to learn how to fly.  If only he would just _say it, she'd believe him.  Just say it already!_

Gohan was yanked from his thoughts as Videl's shadow fell across his face.  Her expression was twisted with urgency, and no little anger as grabbed his shoulders and pulled him around to face her, "Answer me!  Just tell me that it's not true!"

Gohan was held, transfixed, by the furious eyes that stared so hotly into his own.  Involuntarily, his body was consumed with shudders.  He never even heard what she said—all that existed was the angry look in her eyes, and the rough hands grasping his shoulders.  As weak as she was, he was helpless against her.  Gohan's body gave one last shudder as he was swept away.  

Videl watched in horror as the flashback she had unwittingly sparked overtook Gohan.  Not knowing quite what to do, she sat down beside him, and hesitantly put one hand on his arm as the boy's body twiched and thrashed on the cold concrete of the school roof.

_______________

Not too far away, Vegeta punched and kicked his way through his daily routine, watching Trunks struggle from the corner of his eye, though he pretended not to.  

Vegeta froze in mid-punch as he felt a rather large energy begin to flicker wildly in the distance.  It only took a second to recognize it; it was Gohan.  

Vegeta hesitated.  He was no knight in shining armor—what did _he care if the boy was having another flashback?  Surely his mother, or his brother…Vegeta paused in mid-thought, his extended senses finding no familiar ki's around Gohan.  Damn.  Fine—he'd go and retrieve the brat—but only because the boy was late for their spar._

Trunks watched his father's inner struggle curiously as his little body fought to keep itself erect under the enormous force of a hundred and fifty times the earth's gravity.  "Dad—what's wrong?"

Vegeta scowled at his son.  "Nothing, brat.  I've got something to take care of, you stay here, and keep on working—unless it's too much for you?"  

Trunks frowned at the little goad, "No way!  I can handle lots more than this!"

Vegeta hid a smirk at his son's stubborn determination—it was obvious that the boy was about to collapse, but he kept on trying.  Without another word, Vegeta exited the room to collect Gohan.

Trunks watched as his father departed, closing the door behind him, he allowed himself a small smile.  After a moment's hesitation to ascertain that his father was indeed gone, the boy shook the hair out of his face and gave a yell.  As purple waves floated up and stiffened into a glowing golden yellow, and blue eyes flashed green, Trunks gave an excited little hop.  Training was always a lot easier as a Super Saiyan!

______________

Gohan was lost somewhere between dreams and reality.  Not exactly memory, not exactly nightmare, Videl's face had replaced those of the Ginyu force as he relived his childhood rape.

Intellectually, he knew it was impossible.  Videl was so much weaker than him, it wasn't even funny.  There was no way she could ever do anything against his will—no way she could ever hurt him.  Deep down, however, the emotional core of his being knew that his intellect was wrong.  Videl didn't need to be physically more powerful to hurt him.  

His heart knew why he feared her.  Somehow, over the days and weeks, months and years that they had studied together, laughed, eaten lunch, and even fought although she had been unaware of it, he had come to feel something for her.  She mattered.

The only other people that had ever mattered in his life were his family, and the Z-senshi, and they all had some sort of tie to him—some sort of connection, making understanding his past that much easier.  Videl did not.

That was the source of his fear.  Videl had his heart in her hands—all she had to do was squeeze.

______________

Videl looked up in shocked dismay as a man with swept up hair and flaming black eyes landed on the roof of the school beside her.  The man had—flown!  Like Saiyaman!  Like….Gohan.

With an angry growl, Vegeta pushed his way past Videl to look down at Gohan, whose eyes were rolled up into the back of his head, and whose breath came in ragged, panting gasps.

Vegeta glared over his shoulder at the confused, indignant girl behind him.  With a low snarl, he spat out,  "What the hell have you done?"

Videl glared back.  She may have been intimidated, but there was no way she was going to show it.  "I don't know!" she yelled, "I don't know anything, apparently!  First I find out Gohan's Saiyaman, then he won't answer any of my questions—do _you know?  Is what he wrote on that paper true?  Is Gohan really a murderer?  Could __somebody PLEASE tell me what the HELL is GOING ON HERE?!!"_

Vegeta gazed wordlessly at the blue-eyed girl whose fists were clenched tight by her sides.  The short black locks of her hair rippled in the quiet breeze that swept over them, waiting for Vegeta's answer.

Wordlessly, Vegeta reached down and picked up Gohan, slinging him over one shoulder.  Stalking across the roof, he grabbed Videl, and threw her across the other, ignoring her vicious struggles, only wincing slightly at her vocal yelps of protest.

Taking to the sky, he headed back to Capsule Corporation.  Videl's struggles ceased shortly after they took to the air, for fear of falling, and Vegeta was left free to ponder the situation.  Loaded down with two teenage burdens, one glaring holes in his back, the other silent and shuddering, he hoped that Bulma would know what to do, because one thing was for certain; _he sure as hell didn't._

***Next time: Explanations?  Maybe.  R&R please!***

**Advertizing— In Just One Night by Mistress-Rayne. Storyid=748192 This is a very kawaii Goku/Chi-Chi fic which takes place directly after their wedding.  I'm not really sure why I love it so much, there's just something about it!  If you're in the mood for a change, read this—and if not, read this!  It's a just a one shot, but it's a favorite of mine.**


	26. Revelations

Disclaimer--*hands over large stack of DBZ fanfics* I already said that I didn't own _any _of these—you think I'm going to start claiming otherwise _now?!_

A/N—Not much to say, I think I updated fast, so quit sending me hate mail! (just kidding) Hope this lives up to what LED up to it!  Oh, and if you asked me a question, it's been addressed under (duh) QUESTIONS!

___________________

As soon as Vegeta touched down in the Capsule compound, Videl resumed her angry yelps of protest.

Stomping inside, Vegeta tossed Gohan unceremoniously on one of the large couches, and flung Videl roughly into an overstuffed armchair, only to hover over her and glower.

"What the hell are you talking about, girl," Vegeta asked in a near growl.  He'd only caught bits and pieces of Videl's rant on the way inside, but what he had caught had included Gohan and the word murderer in the same sentence.

Videl glared at the man looming over her.  He wasn't that much taller than she was, and she'd yet to meet her match in a fair fight, but somehow, this man just exuded menace.  He actually frightened her.

Regardless, Videl had her pride.  She wasn't just some mindless sack of potatos this guy could toss around whenever he felt like it.  "Oh, finally listening to me?  You didn't seem to be listening much when I said NOT to pick me up, NOT to fly through the air, and NOT to bring me here!  Why start now?"

Had the situation been different, Vegeta might have been amused at the girl's spunk.  Glancing over at the deathly pale and still unconscious Gohan, however, he was distinctly otherwise.  "I asked you a question, girl.  What did you do to the brat to put him in this condition?"

Videl glowered, but answered.  It seemed like the best way to get her own questions addressed.  "I asked him if he was a murderer.  I've suspected for a long time that he was Saiyaman, and this morning he dropped something that finally confirmed it for me.  On the same piece of paper, he mentions that he'd killed people.  All I wanted to know is if it's true.  It's just as simple as that." Videl finished cooly.

Vegeta could hardly believe his ears.  The girl was smart, and when fate tossed her a tidbit, she had pounced, jumping to all of the right conclusions, knowing none of the circumstances beyond those bare facts.    

Somewhere, down beyond that cold shield he'd erected for the world, Vegeta felt a tenuous sort of kinship with Gohan.  He saw the boy as what he himself could have been—had he escaped Frieza earlier.  Of all the people on this backwards mudball where he now found himself, only Gohan could truly understand his past.  And he didn't need to tell him either; a weakness which the proud Saiyan prince would never have allowed himself.  

Gohan knew Vegeta's past because it was his own.  Up until the age of eight, Gohan had played toy to an evil tyrant's will; they were same race, had had the same master, endured the same torment.  Deny it as he might, Vegeta felt he owed the boy something.  Something that went beyond the mere bonds of commonality that they shared.  Had Vegeta been a little more successful in his own struggles, perhaps Gohan's fate could have been averted.

Vegeta glared measuringly back at Videl.  "It's not as simple as that, girl.  Real things never are.  Are you ready for the truth, or do you want another comforting lie, like the one your father concocted for those soft, weak-minded humans outside?"  Oh, yes.  Vegeta recognized her—how could he not?  He found it only slightly ironic that the spawn of Hercule Satan, the one who had ripped away the boy's glory and used it to shroud his own shoulders, should become Gohan's friend.

Videl didn't quite know what to say.  Comforting lie?  Like the one her father had….what was he talking about?  "I don't know what you're hinting at, but my father is a great man!  And you think I've never had to face reality?  I don't know who you are, or what you've been through, but my life has been plenty real, thank you very much!" Videl's mind flashed back to her mother's face, covered in blood as the paramedics had pulled her daughter from her grasp.  The eyes had been cool and lifeless.  It had seemed to take forever for anyone to get there.  Videl had been left alone in the car for what seemed like hours, her only contact with reality the slow drip of the broken oil line, and the macabre embrace of her dead mother's arms.  Videl shuddered at the old memory.  She had learned what death looked like that day.

Vegeta glared at the distracted Videl.  Thought she knew what reality looked like, did she?  Maybe it was time for a wake-up call.  "You know nothing, girl." Vegeta stated harshly.  "You really think whatever pitiful hardships you've been through could possibly measure up?  Perhaps you do.  Well then, child, let me educate you."  In a calm, cold voice, Vegeta detailed the little of Gohan's early childhood that he knew.  When there was a gap, and he wanted to give his tale some emphasis, Vegeta'd insert snippets from his own past.  No matter.  They were largely the same.

Videl glared incredulously at the man before her, slightly sick to her stomach.  Who the hell did he think he was fooling, anyway?  Kidnapped as a child by an evil space alien?  Tortured at the whim of that same alien, who gained some kind of twisted masochistic pleasure from pain?  Forced to kill under threat of yet more torture?  Right.  The man might be good storyteller—his words were gruesome enough to twist her stomache until bile rose up in the back of her throat, but he obviously had a few screws loose.

Vegeta almost growled in frustration at the Videl's doubting glare.  He hadn't even included the Cell Games, the fact that Gohan was part alien, or that he'd committed suicide and come back to life, and it was still too much for her.  "What?  Can't handle it, girl?"

Videl pushed down her queasiness and smirked at the man, "I thought you said you were going to tell me the truth.  Instead you concoct some fantasy.  A very good fantasy mind you—I think you should go into fiction.  You'd make a terrific horror writer."

Vegeta fought down the urge to kill the snippy little brat.  She was cocky.  She was impudent.  She was snide.  She was completely and totally wrong, and in for a rude awakening.  "You want truth girl?" Vegeta asked, his voice deadly quiet.

Walking over to the couch where Gohan lay, Vegeta reached out and ripped the shirt from the boy's still form, presenting Videl with his scarred and mutilated back.  In addition to the still angry-looking lash marks, knobby raised reminders of his regular beatings, other scars littered Gohan's young body, cruel evidence of his harsh past.  There were too many to count.  All in all it was like a dark and evil poem etched into flesh.  A terrible map that plotted out the path of Gohan's suffering.  Vegeta smirked a bit at the look on Videl's face.  "You wanted reality, girl, well here you have it.  _This _is real.  Sometimes the truth is a bit hard too swallow." 

Videl sat frozen with shock.  Suddenly, incomprehensibly, she believed, without reservation.  How could she not, now?  Silence filled the room as Videl struggled to come to grips with what she had just learned.  

Before he had died, Mr. Mazuki had been teaching them the Shakespearean play Hamlet, and one particular line of the old tragedy smashed through her brain for some reason.  

"_There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy."_  

Somehow, it seemed particularly appropriate at this moment.  Videl's philosophy, her reality, once so rock solid, now seemed pitted with holes.  Wrong and right, once black and white, had now faded to fuzzed shades of grey.  There were no absolutes.

Videl struggled silently to come to terms with these new revelations, and surprisingly, Vegeta let her.  That was how Bulma found them.  Gohan shirtless, and passed out on the living room couch, and Vegeta standing silent, arms crossed over the young girl who was lost in thought, a look of horror and indescribable confusion etched across her face.

Walking softly up, Bulma poked Vegeta in the side.  "Hey," she whispered, "I thought you said you needed my help."

Vegeta snorted.  It was true he'd told his bondmate that he was coming, but he'd never _needed_ help.  "Ha.  I didn't need your help, woman.  I just didn't want to bother, and if you hadn't taken so damned long, I wouldn't have had to."

Bulma smiled at his back as Vegeta made his way quickly out of the room, dignity still intact.  She'd long gotten used to what anyone else would consider as rude, as an everyday part of Vegeta—normally she'd be annoyed, but, this time at least—she knew he didn't mean it.

Looking at the half nude Gohan, and Videl in the armchair before her, still entirely oblivious to the change of the guard, Bulma sighed.  Calling in her server robots, she set about getting Gohan into a bed, and putting back together the shell-shocked mind of Satan Videl.

_________________

Vegeta stomped angrily towards his training room.  Why had he done that anyway?  He had no obligation to the boy—much less an obligation to plead the brat's case to his little girlfriend—the offspring of that moronic twit Hercule, no less!

A low, deep sense of shame began to burn in Vegeta.  He was getting soft.  Like Kakarott.  He was becoming weak, like the man he strove everyday to surpass.  Even though his rival was long dead, Vegeta knew that he would return one day—he had to.  Vegeta had to beat Kakarott!  Without that goal he was….nothing.

Shoving the insidious thoughts aside, Vegeta pushed open the door to the gravity room and stamped inside.  As preoccupied as he was, he didn't even see the blast before it smashed him into the other side of the room.  

Dazedly, Vegeta shook his aching head, looking around for the enemy that dared strike at him in such a cowardly manner.  As his wavering vision sharpened, the small army before him solidified into one person.  

Vegeta was shocked to see his son standing before him, sheepishly rubbing his head with that silly little grin he had picked up from Kakkarot's second brat.  It took a moment of fury-filled internal cursing for it to finally register: Trunks was a Super Saiyan.

Vegeta groaned and stifled the urge to throttle the boy.  A mixture of anger, pride and incredulity raged through his veins.  All directed at the same target—his son.

Trunks smiled timidly at his father.  He hadn't noticed him coming towards the room or he would have dropped Super Saiyan, but it was too late.  His little secret was out.

Grunting, pride won the internal war Vegeta was fighting.  In light of these new revelations, he couldn't help but wonder—exactly how strong _was_ his son?  Strong enough to beat Kakarott's second boy?  

Calling Trunks to a halt, Vegeta glared at him.  Time to test this new-found power out.

_________________

Bulma spoke gently to the shaky girl sitting at her table, watching sympathetically as one slow, genuine tear inched its way down Videl's cheek, escaping despite the iron-hard control she was so obviously trying to exercize.  

"So, Gohan, he was really…" Videl trailed off.  Which of the horrors to list?  The man—Vegeta—had said that Gohan was beaten regularly within an inch of his life, forced to play sexual toy to some of the more twisted among the crew, and forced to murder—murder more people than she'd ever thought had even existed.  Which atrocity should she seek confirmation of first?

Bulma, watching Videl's inner struggle, was conflicted.  What could she do—what could she say to help this girl understand?  It was obvious that Gohan cared about her—he'd often talked of Videl in the past, seemingly unaware that he was doing so, and Bulma didn't want to be the one to mess it up for him—the one to scare her away.  

Bulma blinked as a sudden idea struck her, "Hey.  I've got an idea.  We're having a sort of, err…birthday party here for Gohan in about a week," Actually it was more of a _re-_birth party, celebrating the day that Gohan had returned to life three years ago, but Videl didn't need to know that,  "How would you like to come?  Maybe it would help you to understand if you could talk to Gohan's family, and some of his friends."

Videl blinked, somewhat uncertainly.  For the first time in years, she was at a loss, and craving direction, "Do…do you think so?  They all know about what that man—Vegeta—said?"

Bulma nodded slowly, "Some of it at least.  I really think it would help." She stated firmly.

Videl nodded and attempted a smile.  "Ok then.  If you think so."

Whatever Bulma was about to say next was cut off by a wild hooting sound that filled the house.  Bulma watched in astonishment as her howling red-faced son streaked through the kitchen.

"Dad's taking me to the PARK!!!" Trunks hollered ecstatically.

The _park?_ Bulma turned her gaze to the sanguine man resting against the doorway, and  Vegeta just snorted and turned away.

Bulma and Videl, each with varying degrees of amusement and confusion towards the little scene, watched in silence as Vegeta let his son pull him out of the house and towards the park.

Bulma shook her head in bemusement.  Vegeta.  He never ceased to amaze her.

________________

Somewhere in Heaven, another pair of eyes watched the little scene.  The seven-year anniversary of his death was coming up, and he knew just how he wanted to spend his one day on earth.  He had promised to be there if Gohan ever needed him, and it looked like it was time for him to fulfill that promise.  _"I'm coming, son."_

***I don't try to make evil cliffy's….they just sorta…happen.  Oh, and Nemi Genn?  I'm dying to know…what does 'Watashi wa bakabakashii desuyo' mean?  From that bakabaka, I doubt it's good, but still….the curiosity is eating me up!  I MUST KNOW!  Err….yeah.  R&R Please!!! ***


	27. A New Dawn

Disclaimer—I DISCLAIM YOU!  You are NOT MY CHARACTERS!

Characters: *groan* Does this mean we're out of the Will?

FF: YES!  Now begone!

A/N—Thanks for the reviews!  *stares in blank disbelief* What are you people ON?!  Whatever it is, keep taking it, because it's _definitely_ helping you get through my writing! 

___________________

Videl pulled nervously at her dress.  She wasn't used to wearing dresses, but when the situation called for it, she had been known to don one.

The Brief's house was even larger and more intimidating than the first time she had seen it.  She wasn't really sure what to think as she approached the door.  Part of her was convinced it was a mistake—the evidence that had seemed so stark and doubtless at first sight, had faded with the hazy fuzzed edges of a bad memory.

Nevertheless, Videl was determined to give Gohan the benefit of the doubt.  She didn't do it because the wealthy Briefs had asked her to, she didn't do it because Gohan was Saiyaman, fellow crime fighter; she did it because Gohan was Gohan.  

Once upon a long time ago, Videl had thought that she had glimpsed some incredible and elusive pain in Gohan's eyes.  Apparently she had been correct.  Now it was time to see if he trusted her as much as she trusted him.  She had read the pain in his eyes, and in his scars, but was he ready to speak it?

___________________

Gohan sat unhappily in the back gardens of the Capsule Complex.  It had been about a week since he had woken in a bed in Bulma's infirmary, bruised and disoriented, completely oblivious as to how he'd gotten there.  Bulma had explained the whole wretched mess, and the pit had dropped out of Gohan's stomach when he had learned of what Vegeta had told Videl.  

Gohan didn't know whether to feel angry, or relieved.  On one hand, the older man had told far more than Gohan was comfortable with.  He knew just how dedicated Videl was to justice and he was surprised the girl hadn't tried to arrest him on the spot.  On the other hand, Gohan felt a strange but immeasurable sense of relief that he wasn't the one to tell her.  Strange, he had never consciously considered revealing his secrets to Videl, and yet this dual feeling of anger and relief existed regardless.  

Sighing, Gohan tugged at his constrictive bow-tie and rested his face in his hands.  Videl would be here tonight.  He hadn't returned to school since the incident with her on the rooftop.  Since she had found out about him.  What would she think?  What would he say?

Yes, that was the question.  What would HE say.  Would he be able to look her in the eye?  Every night since that last and most humiliating flashback, his dreams had been haunted by the images that it had conjured.  WHY?!  Why did his mind insist on replacing Zarbon's sneering face with Videl's?  He just couldn't grasp the connection.  He did know that he feared her.  Feared not so much what she would do, but what she would say.  Who would have ever guessed the dread that a pair of angry blue eyes, and a few simple words could hold?

_____________________

In the dappled twilight of a nearby tree, Goku stood quietly, watching his son.  Gohan had grown so much since the last time he had seen him, but as he had stood watching, he had glimpsed the quiet vulnerability of the child he had become so close too, so many years before

Seeing his son's dismal and conflicted face, Goku could hold his silence no more.  Stirring the bushes to make himself known, Goku made his way towards his child—now a young man, who sat silent in thought.

____________________

Videl edged uncomfortably through the crowd and towards the back door, which Bulma had indicated.  She'd never seen so many odd people, and she was certain that at least a few of them looked suspiciously similar to the people who had accompanied the Golden Fighters at the Cell Games.

Pulling open the door, Videl breathed deeply as fresh outdoor air invaded her nostrils, chasing away the hectic scent of the crowded room.  Videl stopped suddenly as she saw a man with a strange golden circlet above his head making his way toward Gohan.  

A quick glance from the man convinced her to hold her peace.  There was nothing malicious in the look, it wouldn't have affected Videl nearly as much, had there been malice.  It was simply a stern but silent request for her to stay put.  Uncharacteristically, she obeyed, remaining still as the scene played out before her.

______________________

Gohan's head jerked up as he heard a faint rustle of leaves and registered a ki signature that had not been present before.  Whipping his head around, Gohan blinked his eyes, to focus on—his father.

He looked the same as the last time he had seen him in heaven.  Weighted training clothes in his classic orange and blue sat comfortably on his shoulders.  A glowing golden halo rested above a gentle face topped off with a grin.

It couldn't be…it wasn't possible.  Struck with this gelid realization, Gohan's face sank despondently into his hands as he waited for it to come.  Waited for his father's gently smiling face to morph into Frieza or one of his cronies—perhaps Zarbon.  Zarbon haunted his dreams often, of late.  Gohan waited for the torment—the torment that never seemed to end, to take up where it had left off.  

A warm, callused hand jerked Gohan from his horror-filled anticipation.  Looking up, he saw his father's face, unchanged, lit by a slight golden light from his halo.  "What?  No hello for your father, Gohan?"

Gohan stifled a sob at the sound of Goku's voice.  It couldn't be.  It just couldn't.  As soon as he believed, this would prove itself to be a dream, mocking voices cawing at him from all sides, laughing at his gullibility.  His father was dead.  He was never coming back—he was DEAD!

Gohan choked and yanked back from Goku's grip, desperate tears slipping down his cheeks, "No!  Just leave me alone!  You're not real!  I…I…" Gohan fell to his knees biting down hard on his lip.  He felt a thin trickle of blood running down his chin where a sharp canine penetrated his tender flesh.  It was so real; the pain, the tears, even the salty taste of the blood on his tongue.  Slowly, it became more plausible; Gohan began to believe.

Looking up out of hurt but hopeful eyes, he looked pleadingly at the vision before him, "D-dad?  Is it really…you?"

Goku's eyes shone brightly as he cautiously approached his son and knelt down before him.  Stretching out a hand, he cupped Gohan's chin gently, tilting it upwards until his son's eyes met his own.  "Yeah.  It's me.  Who else do you know with a halo?"

With a weak laugh, Gohan threw himself into his father's arms.  Goku was startled for a moment, but reacted quickly, enfolding his son in a comforting embrace.  

In a voice he hadn't used in years, Goku crooned to the shaking boy in his arms, singing his son to silence as Gohan sobbed out three years worth of pain and nightmares on his father's shoulder.  You didn't _always_ have to be strong.  Goku had taught him that.  Not when you had someone to lean on.

____________________

Videl bit her lip, touched by the emotional scene she was witnessing, but unsure of what to do.  She watched in silence as the older man rocked Gohan back and forth, humming an odd but consolling lullaby.  

Just as she was about to turn and go inside, uncomfortable with eavesdropping on such a tender and emotional moment, Gohan pulled away, and said something she didn't quite catch.  The older man smiled and nodded, gesturing in her direction as he replied.

Videl saw Gohan's head whip around, and a look of pallid horror came across the teen's face.  Pulling herself nervously erect, Videl took that as her cue, and started towards them.

_____________________

Gohan pulled back sheepishly from Goku's chest.  He was a bit embarrassed that he'd lost control like that, but…just seeing his father again.  It was like a hopeless dream he'd never thought would be fulfilled.  Not until he died, at least.  

He didn't know how it was that Goku was here again, but one thing was for certain, he wasn't going to waste a moment of however long they had together, "Dad, I…thank you.  You don't know how much it means to me your just being here." The puffy-eyed Gohan brightened, and he grinned as an idea occurred to him.  

Recalling the greeting he had received from an exuberant younger brother three years ago, Gohan felt a sudden spark of mischief; Goten was likely to greet his father with at _least_ as much enthusiasm.  "Dad, I really think you should go see mom.  She…misses you.  You don't know how much."  Gohan was telling the truth, of course—Chi-Chi DID miss her husband terribly—he was just leaving out one tiny tidbit.

Seeing the unaccustomed sparkle in Gohan's eye, Goku quirked a brow and nodded thoughtfully.  "Alright then.  I'll go and speak to your mother, and _you_ can talk to that young lady standing over there in the shadows."

Gohan jerked his head around to see Videl, a silent silhouette in the dark doorway, vague unease written across her features.

As Goku started toward the house, Gohan watched helplessly as Videl approached, hesitancy written in her every step.  It was time for answers.

"Hello, Gohan." Videl's voice fluted, tentative in the dark night of the courtyard.  It wasn't at all like her normal speaking voice.  The caution he heard gave Gohan courage.  She didn't hate him.  Maybe there was hope.

"Hello, Videl.  Uh, would you like to sit down?"

Videl nodded and sat, a bit awkwardly on the ground beside Gohan, ignoring the dirt.  "Uh, Gohan…."

Gohan's heart beat wildly in his chest.  What was she going to say?  Did she know the kind of power she had over him?  He hoped not.  "Yes Videl?"

"Umm…" Videl tried, but the words stuck like glue to her tongue, "….nothing." She couldn't do it.  How do you casually invade someone's past like that—rip loose the protective layers that had so obviously been erected and sift through the sordid and painful memories?  She couldn't.  Gohan would tell her when he was ready, and until he was, she would be what she had always been, perhaps with a little less suspicion, and a little more compassion.  She would be his friend.

Gohan didn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.  She knew—knew more about the squalid and mortifying details of his youth than he would ever have revealed on his own.  He had expected…something.  Some digging questions, some pointed glares…but perhaps…just maybe this was her way of letting him alone.  

He was so used to Videl hounding him, seeking his secret identity as Saiyaman, that it was distinctly odd NOT to be pursued—glared at with suspicion.  It was sort of the foundation of his and Videl's relationship.

Gohan nodded in acceptance of the gesture, and climbed to his feet.  "How about we go back inside?"

At Videl's nod, the pair returned, with varying degrees of discomfort, to the party.  

Videl was still silent, a bit shaken by the powerful emotional scene she had witnessed between Gohan and the man who could only be his father.  She couldn't help but feel a niggling stir of jealousy as well.  It had been years since Videl had had anyone to lean on.

Gohan nodded absently in agreement, as if the thought were his own.  In a short amount of time, he had gone from no one, to a tri-pod.  Vegeta, Videl, his father.  Each in their own way, they held him up.  Entering the house, Gohan smiled.  Suddenly, the future looked a bit brighter.

*****::continues hypnotism of readers:: ** You are getting sleepy…you will send Frozenflower lots of nice happy chocolate bars so she can offer them back to you as a bribe for reviewing next time….sleepy….(hypnotist thinks for a moment) OH!  (eerie voice resumes) Yes…you will also review…sleepy…***

**_Advertizing- _**Hey, I know I advertised this one before in Bring Your Father to School Day, but I just got word that she's advertising for ME this chapter, so I thought I'd remind you all of what a _great_ story Wish For the Past by Burenda is!  Chibi Goten and Chibi Trunks go back in time to meet Goten's grandfather Bardock!  Along the way, you get action adventure, comedy, kawaiiness (talk about mangling a Japanese word), and just a bit of perving on Bardock (ok a lot -_-;) It's a good fic, worthy of a read, and as of now over 100,000 words, and still going strong.  She's got more reviews than I do, and certainly doesn't NEED the advertising, but she's going to get it!  If you're up for some fun, read Wish For the Past by Burenda!  


	28. Ever After

Disclaimer—Hell, I've said it before, I'll say it again.  I don't own 'em.  My kudos and insanely jealous fan letters go to Akira Toriyama, FUNimation, Waves and Rocks, anyone but me.  Blah.  Too bad.  I REALLY wanna own Chibi Goten right now.  He's such a cutie!

A/N 1—Sorry about the repost people—I have NO idea how I managed that one ^_^* put it down to fatigue!

A/N 2—Well, thanks to a lot of thinking, and a little good advice (thanks Berhart!) I've decided that the time has come for us to part ways.  This will be the final chapter to this little fic, possibly to be continued in a new fic from Vegeta's POV to take us through the Buu saga.  Most of my plans for angst in the future rested on Vegeta, and everyone knows a healing Gohan's no fun, right?  So we'll leave it here, and I'd like to thank all of you for being participants in my little angst experiment!

______________________

Gohan sat next to Videl, sipping at a soda.  He was right now as comfortable as he'd ever be around a large gathering of people, and was doing his best to enjoy the party.

Gohan couldn't help but feel some amusement at the pole-axed expression on Goku's face.  He remembered it so well as his own expression from three years before.  After a quick but emotional reunion with his wife, Chi-Chi had introduced Goku to his youngest son.  

Goten had been shy about meeting his father at first, but the shyness had quickly given way to excitement, and Goten now sat in his father's lap, chattering a mile a minute, and discreetly poking at Goku's halo, as if to determine its authenticity.  The happy trio was surrounded by a large group of family and friends, all eager to know how it was that Goku was back, and more important, for how long.

In one corner, Gohan could vaguely make out Vegeta's form, standing reclusive in the shadows.  Vegeta's eyes were narrowed, a look of righteous glee on his face.  Gohan was a little saddened at its cause.  He knew that Vegeta's joy was not at Goku's return, but at his new chance to beat his rival; to redeem his honor.

Videl, looking at Gohan's face, could see it painted with conflicting emotions.  It was like he was real now.  No more hiding, no more masks, this was the real Gohan—the boy she had glimpsed behind those shuttered eyes.

From the stage in the center of the room, a loud thumping was heard as Bulma retrieved the microphone and smiled out at the gathered Z-senshi.  "Well, it looks like we've got more to celebrate than we'd thought, everyone!  Guess we'll have twice the reason to celebrate this day next year—not only is this the anniversary of the day that Gohan was returned to life, but today Goku's come back as well!  And…." Bulma paused for dramatic effect, practically shining with joy, "Goku's agreed to let us wish him back with the Namekian dragonballs!"

Gohan's entire demeanor brightened, and his head whipped around to see Goku looking directly at him.  Aside from a few winces, caused by Goten, who was now yanking rather determinedly at his father's halo, Goku's gaze didn't waver.  Gohan knew.  His father had done this for him.  For him, his mother, and for Goten.  He had decided to come back for them.

With difficulty, Videl contained her curiosity at Bulma's comment.  She had seen the tears leap to Gohan's eyes, and the expression on his face as he had sought confirmation.  She could wait a little while.  After all, it wasn't like she hadn't known something was up.  The halo had been a bit of a give away.

Prying Goten gently off of him, Goku stood and offered a hand to Chi-Chi, smilingly requesting the next dance.  Chi-Chi smiled, and nodded, accepting the offer, and they drifted into the center of the room, discreetly abandoned by friends and well-wishers.

Gohan looked from his parents, to Vegeta who was scowling at the happy couple, and adamantly refusing to be budged from his corner by the annoyed Bulma.  He couldn't help but think that that was him.  Him without his father to guide him, him with a few more years under Frieza's tutelage.  

Videl watched as Gohan's expression saddened, and his gaze turned inward, thoughts of the long past returning as they found fertile ground in the Saiyan prince.

Hesitantly, she put a hand on his shoulder, jerking him out of his reverie.  Gohan's eyes grew confused as he turned to look at Videl's inquiring face.  "What is it, Videl?"

In a strange gesture, Videl reached up to push aside an errant lock of hair that had escaped into Gohan's face, "What are you thinking about?"

Gohan's expression shuttered, and his eyes darkened as he returned his gaze to Vegeta, "Nothing, really.  Just how…" Gohan paused, and sighed, "Just how the smallest change can make the hugest difference, you know what I mean?"

Videl nodded thoughtfully.  She did know.  A simple twist of fate was all that had allowed her to discover Gohan's identity.  Twist another way, and she might never have known for sure.  Somehow though, she knew he was talking of darker things, and she began to suspect just _why_ the arrogant Vegeta had taken the time to explain to her about Gohan's past.  

She could sense a bond between the two, an overwhelming sense of 'might-have-been.'  They were tied together in a way she didn't think she could ever completely understand—a way she didn't know if she _wanted_ to understand.  Perhaps secrets that dark and intense were better left to the shadows.

Impulsively, Videl leaned forward, deciding to see if she could distract Gohan from his blackening mood, and pressed her lips lightly against his cheek, pulling hesitantly away, watching closely to gauge his reaction.

___________________

Gohan was jerked from his thoughts by a feathery light brush of lips on his right cheek.  Slowly, he pivoted, eyes wide, to see Videl staring at him with mischief, and just a little apprehension in her eyes.

Gohan's skin grew flushed, and he felt himself turning the color of a ripe apple, not even noticing the interesting lack of reaction from the demons inside his head.  No flashbacks, no horrifying images, just a hot flush, and a flood of embarrassed pleasure at Videl's attentions.

Quickly looking away, Gohan took a large gulp of soda, determined to look anywhere but Videl.  Pain he could handle; torture, nightmares, evil tyrants out for his blood—those were all old news.  Girls, however—girls—boy were they confusing!

____________________

Across the room, Chi-Chi nudged Goku and they watched the little scene with growing amusement.

"I told you," Chi-Chi murmured into Goku's shoulder as they swayed to the music.

"Huh?  Told me what?"  
  
Chi-Chi shook her head, "You mean you forgot?  That night, that first night he came back to us and had that very first nightmare, I told you—I told you that he'd be ok."

At this, Goku smiled, and bent his head slightly to sniff at Chi-Chi's hair, concern for his son forgotten for the moment, "Oh that," he chuckled happily, "Was there ever really any doubt?"

***Well, that's it!  Gohan's healing.  I'm letting him.  At least until the next story!  R&R please!***

Advertizing 

**Chronological Chaos** by Proteus storyid=793624 A GREAT time travel fic, where a teenage Trunks and Goten end up in the past RIGHT before the Saiyans are expected to arrive.  Well written, and VERY entertaining!  Go read this, you'll enjoy it, trust me!

**Normal Friends from Strange Places** by Marie Cline storyid=740820 This is a great fic told from the POV of Trey, the hither to unknown son of Launch and Tien.  Now I normally HATE original characters, but this is so well done, so funny and extremely well developed, that it's one of my favorites!  Don't pass it up because of the OC!  It's worth a read!

**Life Long** by Saiyan Sun Goddess storyid=617980 If you're still in the mood for angst, sink your teeth into this.  Trunks is an alcoholic.  It's a T&P that's very good, very original, and very hard to explain without giving away the story.  It's also rated NC-17, but the lemons are unnecessary to the storyline, and she gives you plenty of time to skip over them if you want to!  Great fic, one of my favorites, go check it out!


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